


Engineer

by forgetmenotjimmy



Series: Moving Parts [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Age Difference, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Gay Sex, Infidelity, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Minor Character Death, Origin Story, Painful Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Imbalance, Starfleet Academy, The Daedalus Project, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-05 09:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14615022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmenotjimmy/pseuds/forgetmenotjimmy
Summary: Captain Jefferies frowned.“You are an engineer. A brilliant one. But just an engineer. Never forget that.” Trip swallowed and rasped.“No, sir.”Stardates: 07-22-2121 to 04-16-2151





	1. Work-In-Progress

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by ‘First Flight’ and the idea of exploring how Jon and Trip’s relationship evolved from awe to easy friendship but it became more of a character study of Trip, surprise, surprise. I also borrowed one or two things from the books 'Daedalus' and 'Daedalus' Children' but you don't need to have read those to follow this story.  
> Please note the tags (especially for Chapter 1) and let me know if you think anything is missing.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> :D

If it were not for the fact that he’d been born a few hundred kilometres from the ocean, his parents would have said that he’d been a water baby. There seemed to be something about the water that called to him, ever since he’d first seen the sea. But the truth of it was that Charles Tucker was born an explorer, the depths of the Pacific Ocean were only his first challenge. He was destined for greater things.

Charlie learnt to scuba dive when he was 10 years old and as a teenager worked at his uncle’s scuba diving school in Mexico Beach. His family wasn’t poor by any means, but they were hard workers. So the children were taught the value of hard work and sacrifice in exchange for the good things in life. Every summer he’d arrive, work in the school, fixing broken equipment and helping with lessons and dives, hang out with the children of his uncle’s friends, dive and swim and eat fresh seafood and then leave, body bronzed and soul refreshed. He’d run his fingers over the fresh calluses on his hands from the ropes on the way home, smiling to himself. Even after he read Emory’s book and decided to become an engineer, even after the rep from Starfleet had visited to their middle school to peddle space exploration to the next generation and germinated his dream of exploring space; even after he moved up to high school and made friends who started calling him Trip and invited him to parties, every summer he went back to Uncle Jack’s Scuba School.

Trip learnt to kiss girls when he was 15. He wasn’t very good at first. Too nervous and tentative and self-conscious to make much of an impression. But then he met Lisa and she was more than happy to practise with him. Just kissing though. Lisa was a classy lady. One part of Trip respected that, the other was frustrated and horny as hell. He also became very familiar with his right hand and porn vids, both straight and gay varieties. After turning 16 and receiving an old beat up car for his birthday, Trip fixed it up and he and Lisa would practise not going all the way in various locations along the shoreline. Looking back on those golden years, Trip knew that he’d been blessed.

…

Trip Tucker became a man in the summer of 2139. He was 18 and hungry. He’d graduated high school and applied for Starfleet and nowhere else. Many had advised him to have a back-up plan, but Trip was sure of what he wanted to do with his life. Starfleet would accept him and that was that as far as he was concerned.

The summer started the same as always: he left Panama City and drove down to his uncle’s diving school. He spent a happy week or two avoiding questions about his future from his uncle’s friends and helping out around the school. He was enjoying tinkering with the engine of one of the boats as he fixed a recurring problem and didn’t mind chipping in with teaching a family with adult children how to dive. He hadn’t officially qualified as a diving instructor, only able to take the test after he’d turned 18, but he was able to assist his uncle and the other instructors. Then a second group started and Trip’s world turned upside down.

His name was Stuart, he was a lawyer in his late 30s. Charismatic, good-looking and very self-assured, he was learning how to dive with some of his friends from the city. Trip was enamoured in the first afternoon. He didn’t even recognise the emotions stirred by the man’s presence until a few days later. By then it was too late; he’d fallen, hard.

To his surprise, though years later he’d feel embarrassed at his naivety, Stuart seemed to return his interest. At first, Trip didn’t think anything of the man engaging him in conversation, since they talked mostly about diving and he was the instructor’s assistant after all. Trip made a point to help him with his equipment but didn’t notice Stuart asking questions and making idle conversation whilst his friends mostly talked amongst themselves. Trip’s heart would pound furiously and he’d fight to appear casual, but he didn’t suspect anything other than Stuart being a diligent and friendly pupil. Then came the first night he ran into the group as they relaxed in the bar frequented by the most of the diving community in the area and he got into a lengthy conversation with Stuart about everything under the sun. He was impressed by the man’s intellect and quick wit, often finding himself laughing. Soon he began blushing as well, finally noticing how the man would lean in to be heard over the loud music, how he’d look intently at Trip’s face, at his lips. The hour grew late and as they walked back to where Stuart was staying, Trip hardly felt the cool breeze rustling around him, so heated by the man’s presence beside him. Just before he went inside, Stuart moved closer and Trip thought for a moment that he was about to be kissed. But then the older man leant down and whispered into his ear.

“Sweet dreams.” And sauntered into the hotel. Trip left staring after him like an idiot before he came to and wandered home on a cloud.

The next day, dizzy with wild fantasies, Trip found it even harder than before to act casual around the man. He didn’t dare look anyone else in the group in the eye, in case they could read his excitement and desire in his eyes. Luckily it was not his uncle, but one of his uncle’s employees who was running the day’s session, otherwise things might have been even more awkward. Things were going well, Trip thought, as they approached the location for their dive. When he mentioned to Stuart that the place they were passing was a good location for a night dive, Stuart asked Trip to take him that night. Heart once again racing, Trip cursed his blush as he casually mentioned if Stuart’s friends would like to come as well. Eyes darkening, Stuart lowered his voice and almost purred.

“But then I won’t get you all to myself.” The poor boy was almost speechless with the sexual tension.

“Yeah…” He cleared his throat. “Yeah sure, I uh, I’ll need to clear it with my uncle first-”

“Oh, really, I was just thinking that you were old enough to make your own decisions.” A night dive was not something to be undertaken by a beginner and un-qualified tutor, so many things could go wrong with such a lack of experience. Trip was half-way through explaining this, but then Stuart smiled at him and he completely forgot what he’d been saying. Leaning in slightly, the man said lowly. “You’ll be able to look after me, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Trip breathed, heart in zero-G.

…

The dive went perfectly. There were plenty of luminescent creatures swimming around and the conditions were great for visibility and calm waters. After a pleasant hour, they surfaced and swam over to the boat, lilting slightly in the gentle waves. Buzzing with happiness that Stuart was impressed by the sights, Trip found himself babbling as he helped the man take off his tank and other equipment. He trailed off as he noticed that Stuart was staring at his mouth, both of their faces thrown into stark relief by the harsh mast light.

Then hard lips pressed against his and he felt Stuart’s arms wrap around him tightly. Electricity bolted up his spine and the hairs on his skin jumped up as they stood locked in the hot embrace. Trip was lost in sensation, overwhelmed by the firm grip, the tongue licking his mouth. His mind fizzed and his stomach twinged, limbs numb and heavy. Belatedly, he responded, opening his mouth and moving his trapped hands to the man’s shoulders. Humming agreement, Stuart pulled him even closer, one hand on the back of Trip’s neck as he tilted their heads, pushing his tongue in. Trip shivered, blood rushing downwards. He couldn’t help but moan. Stuart’s hand moved up to pull with the strands of hair at the back of his head, the other hand snaking its way to his ass. Gasping in surprise at the squeeze, Trip found his crotch twitching forward to rub against the man’s, his cock hardening in arousal. He realised suddenly that Stuart was hard too. It pulled him out of the moment and he was suddenly aware how out of his depth he was. This was a full-grown man, who was sexy and experienced and would expect…He gasped and tried to pull back, but Stuart held him fast, tongue now trailing across his jaw to the meat of his neck just above the line of the wetsuit. The sensation both excited and worried him. He cleared his throat and rasped.

“Hey…it’s late, we should…” Stuart silenced him, bringing their mouths together again. Trip’s eyes closed of their own accord and he thought vaguely that Stuart knew what he was doing. Wishing that he had more experience, that he could be better, Trip focused on the sensations. A hand stole up to the zipper of his wetsuit and began dragging it down. His skin felt hot and tight and he pulled away again, voice wobbling.  

“Wait, I need to get the boat back. They’ll notice it’s missing.” Slowly, Stuart nodded before sliding his hand out of the boy’s hair. There was reluctance but also a hint of irritation in his face, so Trip hurriedly stumbled back and started the boat back up again. He didn’t dare look at the man all the way back to shore. By the time they docked again, Stuart seemed to have recovered his composure and wished him pleasant dreams. Trip tried in vain to hold back a shiver in response.

It wasn’t until he laid down his bed that he remembered Lisa.

…

Trip’s insides were squirming the next morning. Excitement, guilt, and a pinch of anxiety. He felt terrible for forgetting his girlfriend in the heat of the moment, but at the same time, it wasn’t hard to ignore the intensity of emotion Stuart stirred in him. It made his relationship with Lisa pale in comparison and his anticipation at seeing the man again forced his guilt out of his mind. It wasn’t as if their relationship had been going anywhere anyway, she was going to college on the East coast in the Fall, and he definitely wouldn’t be joining her.

In the light of day, he was angry at himself for stopping. He’d gotten spooked over nothing; what Stuart had been doing had been amazing, even more amazing that he’d been doing it with him. What had he been thinking? If the man gave him another chance, he wouldn’t chicken out. The day passed as normal, at first Stuart had appeared a bit distant, but over the course of the morning he seemed to warm up again. So much so that Trip wondered if it had just been his apprehension over his reaction the previous night which had influenced his view of things. This time, Trip noticed one of Stuart’s friends looking at between them, a knowing look in his eye. It made him feel even more self-conscious but also that the acknowledgement was a kind of approval.

He had his second chance the following night. They’d met in the bar as per the unspoken convention and had spent an hour chatting in with a mixture of instructors, Trip’s local friends and other members of Stuart’s diving group. Then as some people began dropping off to get early nights, Stuart had suggested to Trip that they ‘get out of there’. Stomach creasing at the implications of the offer, Trip knocked back the rest of his drink and agreed.

As Stuart explained, his roommate had gone back to a local woman’s apartment that night so they would be alone. Trip’s heart was flip-flopping at the thought. They quickly made their way back to the room. It was decently-sized with nice furnishings, but Trip’s eyes were drawn to the double bed.

“You need to go to the bathroom?” Stuart asked, seemingly out of the blue. Trip looked at him questioningly and saw the intent expression on the man’s face. Finally realising the purpose of the question, Trip felt his face catch aflame. He shook his head and Stuart eyed him for a moment. “How about you go anyway?” Reaching into a draw, he pulled something out and handed it to Trip. “And be thorough.” Trip looked down; it was a bottle of lubricant. Trying to act nonchalant, Trip entered the bathroom and pulled the door closed.

It took a moment for him to process what he was about to do. He could do this; he’d read enough on anal sex and seen enough porn to know what he was doing. Kind of. Steeling himself, he took off his pants and underwear and squeezed some lubricant onto this fingers. Taking in a deep breath, he cautiously probed his asshole with one finger. As part of a large and bustling family, he’d never really found time to experiment too much with masturbating. Usually he could only get away with a quick and furtive jerk before someone would be pounding on his door for some reason. Without the other man’s dominating presence, doubts were starting to creep in. Did he really want this? It was going a bit fast… Well, it wasn’t like his relationship with Lisa, Stuart’s course was almost over, he’d be leaving soon. He progressed to two fingers, wincing a bit at the uncomfortable stretching sensation. Intellectually he knew that it took some getting used to, but it was different from knowing that and actually stuffing his fingers up there. Conscious that Stuart was waiting for him, he made a few more swirling motions with his fingers and pulled them out, washing them in the sink.

He gulped, considering putting his underwear back on before scolding himself. He was a man now and Stuart definitely wanted him. He couldn’t hide in the bathroom like a scared little boy or cover himself up like a prude. Breathing in deeply, he opened the door and walked out as confidently as he could manage.

Stuart had stripped naked and was reclining on the bed, slowly palming his erection. He stared Trip up and down as he came out, eyes lingering on his groin, smile curling his lips. Feeling exposed but also attractive, Trip hesitated. Stuart sat up and commanded.

“Come over here.” Obediently, Trip climbed onto the bed and Stuart pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Slowly, he coaxed Trip to half-drape over him, his stiff cock poking into Trip’s stomach. Over a few glorious and blisteringly intense minutes, Trip got used to the sensations that came with full skin-on-skin contact. It was like the make-out sessions he’d had with Lisa but turned up to 11. The feeling of Stuart’s warm skin on his was intoxicating, the strong fingers squeezing and massaging various parts of his body as they made out sending shots of arousal straight to his cock. Then Stuart gripped him tightly and rolled so he was on top. Heart thundering, Trip gasped at the sensation of Stuart’s weight bearing down on him. The sensations were amplified, if that were possible, and he felt his face burn as he realised how close he was from just this. Luckily, Stuart pulled away and ordered breathily.

“Turn over.” A bit awkwardly, Trip let himself be manoeuvred onto his hands and knees. A long finger pushed into him and he grunted. He’d prepared himself but it was still an uncomfortable sensation. Stuart squeezed his shoulder with the other hand and murmured.

“Sssh, relaaaax. You’re too tense.” Face burning even more, Trip mumbled.

“Sorry.” He forced his shoulders down, palms pressing down into the mattress and breathed in deeply. A strong hand rubbed along the side of his ribs soothingly and for an absurd moment, he felt like a prize pony.

“That’s it, this is meant to be fun. Ready?” Throat tight, Trip nodded and tried to keep on breathing as he felt something hard and insistent slowly pressing into him. Stuart grunted, his breath warm on Trip’s neck, one hand tightly gripping a hip. Trip swallowed, forcing himself to focus on the hot breath, the grip on him, the sheets under his fingers, anything but the strange sensation of being filled. Despite his and Stuart’s finger-preparation, it still burned. Blinking rapidly to dispel the tears with were forming, Trip tried to breath normally and ignore the little hitches as the burn intensified. Panting slightly, Stuart hushed him. “Hey, breathe. That’s it. In and out.” Trip swallowed and hissed and panted and after what seemed like an eternity, Stuart stopped pushing and pulled back just as slowly. That still hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt a tear leak out, cool against his reddened cheek and he felt absurdly grateful to be facing the other way. Then Stuart pressed a kiss to his neck and reassured him that he was doing well, so he pushed down the desire to ask him to stop. He could do this.

Stuart pushed in again and Trip was unable to keep from groaning in pain. This time, his lover went all the way in and held there as Trip bit his lip to keep from crying out again. Lips mouthed at his neck and shoulders and light fingers tweaked his nipples and ran up and down his sides, helping to distract him from the fullness. Trip just breathed, trying to relax and enjoy the other sensations even as he wished Stuart would just get it over with. After some amount of time, the fullness become bearable and Trip sagged down in relief. Tutting, Stuart pulled him back into position, his own breathing heavy with exertion and pleasure.

It got easier to bear after the first few strokes and when Stuart established a rhythm, the sensation started to morph from pain to a kind of heat. Stuart’s whispers of encouragement making him relax into the new and strange sensations. He had watched plenty of porn vids and whilst he didn’t think anal sex was as enjoyable as they were acting, it did start to feel good. A hand snaked around to grasp his own cock and electricity bolted up his spine. His erection had waned some as he’d gotten used to the cock up his ass, but it jumped right up again at the attention. He soon forgot about trying to impress as the dual sensations pushed him over the edge and he came with a long groan. His orgasm made Stuart grunt and after a few more deep strokes he came too, filling Trip’s asshole with warm cum. Panting, the pair stayed in their positions for a few moments before Stuart coughed and pulled out tiredly, flopping down on the bed. Limbs fizzing and whole body on fire, Trip gasped as his ass was suddenly bereft and he collapsed down, recovering. Heart in his throat, he focused on his breathing. As he came down from the high, Trip became aware of the cum slowly oozing out of his sore ass, the dried tears on his face, the jelly-like substance filling his arms and legs and the hard ball settling in his throat. It was all too much to process properly, so he was glad when Stuart spoke.

“Not bad, kid.” Rankling a little at the moniker, but happy with the compliment, Trip smiled a little and tried to subtly wipe his face on the bedsheet. He was thinking of a clever reply when Stuart yawned and said sleepily. “It’s getting late; you should probably get back.” Ice hands clutched at his insides even as his face began to warm up yet again from embarrassment. What was he expecting? Cuddles and declarations of undying love? Stuart was a stud and an experienced lover, he was used to cool people who knew what they were doing and kept things casual. Not pathetic, lust-addled teenagers. Clearing his throat, he agreed quietly and gathered up his clothes quickly, wincing as the quick movements aggravated the dull ache inside him. He paused at the door, looking back at the bed where he’d lost his virginity. But Stuart was already asleep, so Trip let himself out and tried to tell himself his eyes were watering from the pollen on the cool night breeze.

…

He felt even worse the next morning; like splinters were poking into the walls of his anus all the way up to his bowels. He refused to let the pain show, making a point of walking as normally as possible. But the feeling of hurt flared every time his ass twinged, so all in all he had a miserable day. The one good thing was that Stuart’s interest in him hadn’t seemed to have lessened any. They still chatted and flirted surreptitiously. The fact that they now knew what each other’s penises looked like hadn’t seemed to have changed anything. Though Trip found himself avoiding his uncle’s eyes almost guiltily.

 “So you’re leaving tomorrow.” Stuart hummed in response, fingers ghosting over Trip’s neck and jaw as he leaned in. Rationally, Trip knew that of course Stuart would be going back home, he had a job and a life in Chicago, one he’d told Trip all about. Of course he wouldn’t stay here beyond the course, he wouldn’t have any reason to. Trip himself wasn’t even staying forever, he was leaving for Starfleet in a few weeks. But still, something in him mourned that they would soon be parted. They were making out behind the bar where Stuart’s friends were celebrating, having slipped away after a few drinks. Suddenly, a voice barked from the shadows of the bar.

“Get away from him!” The couple pulled apart and Trip’s stomach dropped as he recognised his uncle, striding down the path towards them. He opened his mouth but nothing useful came out.

“Erm...” Stuart looked between them and snorted disdainfully.

“Calm down, old man. The kid came on to me.” Jack bristled and as he reached them Stuart made to barge past. Jack growled, blocking his path.

“You stay away from him.” Curling his lip, the man didn’t even reply, just stalked away; leaving uncle and nephew awkwardly not looking each other in the eye. Trip tried to hide his hurt and embarrassment, gripping a wrist with his other hand. As Jack’s anger faded he looked down at his young nephew, worry etched onto his aged face.

“What were you thinking? Carrying on with a man like that?” Trip cringed.

“We weren’t…it was only… I’m sorry, I…” He swallowed, unable to think of anything coherent to say. “Please don’t tell Dad. Please!” His uncle’s frown deepened.

“Charlie-”

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything really, I swear. I just, it was stupid. Don’t tell them, please.” His uncle did not point out the contradiction, only sighed. His nephew was old enough to handle himself, he had turned 18 a few weeks ago after all.

“Alright, this stays between us. But you know you can do a lot better than jackasses like that, right?”

“Yes, thank you Uncle Jack, thank you.”

“Please Charlie, be careful. You can’t trust every friendly face.” He put his calloused hands on his nephew’s thin shoulders. “You have a good heart, but sometimes that can be a bad thing.” He winced at the look of confused hurt replacing embarrassment on the boy’s face. He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to find the right words, and so lead them back to the bar. Charlie was a smart boy, hopefully he would figure it out on his own, before he got himself all broken over it.

…

“Hey! Where were my letters? You promised you’d write!” She had tanned over the summer, her skin golden in the sunlight and her hair blonder than he remembered. This made her blue eyes pop even more and as he went on, they rapidly started to water.

“Ah, you know I’m not good with words. Listen, Lisa, I think we should…” His throat closed up. All words left him and he blanched at his own weakness. Sensing the seriousness of his tone, Lisa frowned, searching his face.

“Trip, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying?” He couldn’t speak, deeply ashamed. Disgust woven in to her trembling words. “Trust you to be such a damn cliché.” He tried not to look at her shining eyes, the wrinkle between her brows, her mouth twisting at his betrayal. He might not have explained out loud, but Lisa was intelligent and intuitive, she saw straight through him. She knew. Her expression hardened and it was her who walked out first. All Trip felt in her absence was regret. Closing his eyes, he tried to cement this moment into his memory. This is what happens, he thought, when he let himself be blinded by his heart. Or, he twisted his mouth cynically, his cock. Well, he wouldn’t be making that mistake ever again.

At 18, Trip Tucker joined Starfleet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: in this chapter Trip has a sexual relationship with a much older man who is obviously taking advantage of his youth and inexperience. There is also a graphic and unpleasant sex scene. Let me know if you think any tags are missing!


	2. Under Development

Joining Starfleet entailed going through a one-year intensive course of ‘basic training’, which included courses on all the relevant areas of knowledge required to work in the organisation: space-training (which included piloting and working in Zero-G), basic engineering (function of all systems and general repair work), inter-species relations studies and astrophysics. There were then additional courses designed to help entrants specialise. Trip took as many courses as he could, interested in everything: Exo-biology, Stellar Cartography, A History of Space Exploration and Space Architecture. His course advisor, based on feedback from his course tutors, advised that he work towards an Orbital Engineering degree after completing basic training. Things were falling into place.

Trip had always made friends easily and Starfleet was no different. There were those he didn’t particularly like, and vice versa, but he got along with most people. His new friends didn’t take long to point out the attention he was getting from the female contingent. He would laugh and joke but he was never the first one to make a move. He got the occasional offer and he flirted with a few like-minded women. But for the first year he didn’t get involved in anything serious. He had been painfully aware of his inexperience, having never actually had sex with a woman before. Though he supposed it couldn’t be too different a concept from sex with another man, his first few attempts at it were fraught with nervousness. Luckily his partners had either been equally as nervous, or charmed by his innocence, so he didn’t suffer any major humiliations in that department. At the very least his extensive experience of not-making-it-past-third-base with Lisa earned him a rep among the female recruits as an exceptional kisser.

Any hint of an expectation of commitment or emotions and he backed away as quickly as his dignity allowed. This was mostly because he was young and career-driven, he wasn’t looking to settle down any time soon, but also he’d discovered to his dismay that his attraction to Stuart wasn’t a one-time phenomenon. He apparently had a thing for older men in authority positions, so in hindsight, joining a naval-style organisation had not been a great idea. Luckily, not many of his superiors had the right mixture of a commanding presence and charm. The ones that did were either too far removed that any possibility of talking to let alone ‘liaising with’ them was slim to nil or not the least bit interested in fooling around with trainees, so the crushes he did have remained firmly that.

He was very aware that he was one of the least “academic” students of his year. One or two of the others had joined straight from high school like him, but the majority were college graduates or older. He didn’t believe his lack of an advanced education would hold him back but he could see that some others thought it did. His accent and easy-going manner didn’t help the overall impression to the stuffy snobs who believed that he was an unwashed hick cluttering up the place. But that couldn’t be helped. He would just have to prove them wrong. It was a relief to get to the end of the first semester and realise that he was equal to or even ahead of his peers in most his classes. Inter-species Relations notwithstanding.

Academic success didn’t mean that he didn’t get into his fair share of scrapes, however. Most of them involving various stages of nudity for some reason; Trip blamed another recruit Jonesy for that one, that man could charm the birds from the trees so had no trouble convincing everyone else it was a great idea to strip off for one reason or another. They were all harmless pranks for the most part, on fellow like-minded recruits who had the creativity and daring for mischief. He wisely showed only the utmost respect to superiors, even course leaders that no one liked; but fellow trainees were fair game. Luckily he had an in with the first-year recruit supervisor, Lieutenant Jennings, whose faulty wiring in his room Trip had fixed during the first week, and the particular brand of ‘Tucker trouble’ as Jennings would say, caused hardly any paperwork, which meant it was mostly shrugged off, sometimes with a chuckle.

After passing basic training in the summer of 2140, he earned the rank of Ensign and was posted at Jupiter station, mostly working on maintenance of whatever ships came through there. He liked the work, getting to work on various designs and models and seeing how they differed from each other. He also continued completing modules for his engineering degree, working through vid tutorials and assignments in between shifts. The team he was assigned to were a young lot, mostly recent graduates from the academy with some who had been working at the station for a few years. They were a friendly bunch, mostly hard-working and completely dedicated to having fun. There were limited resources on the Station due to the length between deliveries from Earth but the maintenance teams all compensated by creating their own distillery in the bowels of the Power Deck. When things were slow, they’d gather in the crew wreck rooms, playing cards and getting ever so slightly drunk – no one reckless enough to court a bad conduct mark by being caught slurring heavily by a superior officer. Occasionally, they’d get visits from boomer crews and other travellers. Hearing their tales of strange worlds and even stranger people was always worth a listen. Trip was even more determined to get out into deep space.

It was a great first posting and he gained valuable experience. But after six months there, he yearned for a chance to spread his wings a bit, move beyond repairing existing systems to creating new ones. He kept up to date with the latest advancements and started working on some things of his own in his spare time, which was not a lot. Then a space opened up on the maintenance team of the Daedalus Project, and the last of Trip Tucker’s innocence was lost in a fiery ball of shame and guilt.

…

It was exciting to say the least. He had read almost all there was to read about Professor Brodesser and his twenty-year long project. Here he was, 19 and working alongside a radical genius! Well, perhaps ‘alongside’ was a bit of an overstatement. He was only on the maintenance team so he didn’t actually work ‘with’ the Professor so much as appearing in the background, making adjustments and replacing parts. He reported directly to Captain Antar and his team was made up of Ensigns and Crewmen and women, who were all equally honoured to be contributing to the project, in however small the capacity. But there was a line-up of truly amazing talent in the main engineering and flight teams.

Professor Brodesser made waves from his genius with all things engineering; his papers always divided the scientific and warp specialist community with theories some called inspired and others called insane. He’d been working on an alternative type of Warp Engine from Henry Archer’s design for the last twenty years and finally it was almost ready for the first test flight. The Professor was sixty-odd, with white hair and sharp eyes. He stood tall despite his age and had an energy of a much younger man.

Commander Cooney, the chief engineer, a big, imposing figure who communicated through barks and snaps rather than reasoned arguments, was nonetheless a talented engineer who had an incredible instinct for troubleshooting the many challenges faced when building and maintaining Warp engines. Doctor D’Lay, a well-renowned Vulcan Warp theorist, had been cajoled out of retirement by Brodesser in order to contribute to the project. Some of the High Command disapproved of his involvement, but Starfleet was overjoyed to have a Vulcan actively working with them on a project so they managed to ignore the disapproval for the most part.

Then there was Captain Monique Duvall, one of the youngest and fiercest Captains in the Fleet who would Captain the ship. She was beautiful and proud, only deigning to speak to her equals or superiors, not giving the maintenance team the time of day, which only fuelled some of their crushes on her. Trip definitely saw the appeal and heard that she’d caused many a fight between pilots in the Flight Academy. But it was Commander Yermish who’d caught his eye. In his mid-thirties, he headed up the impulse deck team and he was a fine officer. Whilst not conventionally attractive, his face a little too round, his jaw not chiselled in the typical space-hero way, he had intense brown eyes and thick, wavy hair. Quick-witted and friendly, he was always polite to members of both his team and the maintenance crew, but he didn’t tolerate sloppiness or laziness and came down hard on anyone displaying either. The Commander had high standards for his team and as long as they were met, he offered encouragement and warm smiles. Trip had matured enough that he was able to keep professional whilst on duty, but that didn’t mean he didn’t store up memories of watching the man for later, personal use. Trip truly felt charmed to be part of the project, being part of history, however small his role.

A week before the launch, Trip was working with one of his teammates on recalibrating the machinery which would monitor the cascade sequence. Something about the readings didn’t look right to him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. After his shift was over, he ran some simulations and felt his stomach drop. He went immediately to Captain Antar, who was just coming off-shift, and showed her the results. She was equally concerned, even if her alarm was tempered by the belief that the engineering team must have already seen this data themselves and already worked on the solution. Still better safe than sorry, she went to Professor Brodesser directly. The next day, Trip came in and on questioning the Captain, learned that she had been reassured that the current speed of the cascade sequence would be fine. He frowned, that wasn’t right. There was a very high chance that the drive would explode if put under that kind of pressure with no modifications to the current set-up. He mentioned this to her but she brushed off his concern. The Professor had convinced her that everything was under control and they all should trust the man who literally knew everything there was to know about the engine. So the Ensign had resumed his work, worry still nagging at him even as he told himself over and over that it was fine.

The night before the launch found Trip running simulation after simulation; all with the same result. He knew that his calculations could be off, even though he’d checked them dozens of times. He knew that he could be missing vital data which would yield different results. He knew that Professor Brodesser and his team had been working on the engine for years and had so much more intimate knowledge of it. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of how they could possibly have different data. It surely wouldn’t hurt to check. So he gathered up his courage and knocked on the door of the Professor’s office. It was ajar and after no answer he entered cautiously.

“Professor?” The man glanced at him, gesturing him to enter distractedly. There were dark circles under his eyes and the stress of running such an important project was very visible in the lines of his face.

“Yes, Ensign? Is that the data I asked for? Good, I -”

“Sorry Professor, no I. I wanted to talk to you about the cascade sequence.” Brodesser squinted at him for a moment before sniffing.

“I’m very busy as you can imagine, Ensign, perhaps another time.” Trip dared to step closer.

“Professor, please just-” The man narrowed his eyes and barked.

“Not now, Ensign.” Clutching his PADD, Trip said quickly.

“If you don’t slow down the initial cascade reaction, the drive will explode.” That made the Professor pause. He put down his PADD and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, Professor, the data shows-”

“You’re the Ensign who’s been bugging Captain Antar about this, aren’t you?” Now caught in the Professor’s intense stare, Trip could only nod mutely. Brodesser continued in a barely-patient tone. “Look, we’ve done all the necessary calculations and simulations and I can assure you, there is an infinitesimally small chance of the drive exploding. Your simulations do not take into account the adjustments we’ve been making as you are, unless I am mistaken, not on the engineering team for this project, correct?” Having recovered slightly from the man’s forceful presence, Trip swallowed and tried.

“So you’ve compensated for the…?” Losing patience, the Professor snapped.

“Yes, Ensign. May I remind you that I have been working on warp engines longer than you have been on this Earth. I believe I know what I am talking about. Now, if that isn’t the data I requested, please leave so I can make the final adjustments before the launch.” Face flush and stomach curling, Trip stammered an apology and left. All he could hope was that the great man would forget the encounter ever happened and also the foolish young man who was arrogant enough to believe he knew better. He returned to his quarters and spent the night staring at the ceiling.

The following day, still uneasy but forcing himself to ignore the feeling, Trip reported for duty as normal. The launch platform was buzzing, people dashing around making last minute adjustments and fittings. Trip and Annie, another maintenance engineer, were assigned to run final tests on the EPS grid and Trip forced himself to focus all his attention on the tests. Finally, the _Daedalus_ crew boarded, the launch platform was cleared and the ship crept out of the platform on impulse. Trip joined the other engineers on the observation deck of the launch platform, someone fiddling with the comm to listen in on the exchanges between the control room and the _Daedalus_ ’ bridge. Trip heard Brodesser’s voice among the others and cringed, though luckily his reaction was unnoticed in the excited anticipation. The tension on the deck and in the voices over the comm was palpable, though no one seemed concerned. The countdown ended, the drive engaged and suddenly the whole team were blinded by a fierce bolt of light, engulfing the observation deck. It wasn’t until they heard confused shouting from the control room that they began to realise what Trip already knew in his gut. The _Daedalus_ was lost.

…

After the tribunal, Captain Jefferies, who had been on the panel, approached Ensign Tucker about joining his engineering team in the Warp 5 complex. Most of what happened on _Daedalus_ was now classified, only the bare bones of the project and what had happened were common knowledge, so Trip wasn’t able to talk about it with anyone. Captain Antar had reported Trip’s worries to the investigators and when questioned, he hadn’t hidden anything from them. Yes, he’d foreseen the potential for explosion before the launch. Yes, he’d reported this to his superior officers on more than one occasion, stressing the depth of his concern and with data to back him up each time. Had he exhausted all courses of action? Had he attempted to prevent the disaster to the best of his ability? Could he have done more? The investigation panel had ruled that neither himself nor Captain Antar were guilty of negligence of duty, despite some voices questioning their decisions. Trip would have been amused by Admiral Black’s flawed logic, as the man had questioned why the good-for-nothing hick hadn’t brought his concerns to someone else higher up in the command chain, if part of him didn’t kick himself for not thinking of that.

Professor Brodesser, on the other hand, had denied all knowledge of the problem, called Trip and Captain Antar liars and in short, destroyed any slim chance of regaining his standing in Starfleet. The experts on the panel, Captain Jefferies and Commodore Velastin, had commented that Tucker’s projection had not been 100% certain to happen and the Professor would have had very good reason to doubt the likelihood of the drive exploding. However, his failure had been in properly proving this projection was false and reporting the potential to the other members of the engineering and operations team. As Captain Jefferies had pointed out, if the Professor had satisfactorily addressed Tucker’s concern, the disaster would have been prevented.

In order to avoid unwanted attention from the press and law suits from relatives of the 50+ crewmembers who had died aboard, Starfleet Command decided to classify the investigation’s full findings and only publish the report on the cause of the explosion. As far as everyone else knew, the explosion was caused by unforeseen complications with the engine and it recommended that the cascading ion drive design not be attempted again due to reasons of unpredictability. They also classified all of the detailed notes and readings from before and during the incident. Ostensibly to keep anyone from imitating the disaster or profiting from Starfleet’s work, but also to keep other bright minds spotting the problem themselves and questioning why it supposedly hadn’t been picked up beforehand. They had a hard time keeping the Vulcans out of the investigation, especially with the loss of a renowned Vulcan scientist, and this caused the Vulcan High Command monitoring other Starfleet programmes to double down on their recommendations for caution.

The Professor had been a consultant contracted for the Daedalus project and not directly part of the organisation, so he was not charged through official channels. But he was unofficially barred from participation in Starfleet projects and those not involved in the project but who were able to read between the lines, correctly guessed he had failed in some way and avoided working with him. The last Trip had heard, he had retreated to a far-off colony and no one was sorry for it.

For months after the event, Trip woke in the middle of the night, sweating and crying, hearing the screams and seeing the flames. It hadn’t helped that he’d seen some of the bridge crew filing in to the bridge as he’d left it that morning, so he could easily imagine their reactions seconds before being vaporised. Wracked with guilt and self-doubt for his part in the disaster, he hesitated when receiving Captain Jefferies’ offer. Could he go through that again? Could he trust his instincts? He had only been thinking these questions and not saying them out loud, but Jefferies had looked at him with understanding and said quietly.

“A project is only as successful as the sum of the team that works on it. Everyone together shares the triumphs and the failures.” Trip would learn that was Jefferies’ mantra of sorts. In his view, the _Daedalus_ had been too reliant on the Professor’s vision and brilliance, if there had been a stronger team dynamic in the core group of researchers and engineers, then the disaster might have been averted. The main thing was that he didn’t absolve Trip of all responsibility for the deaths. Trip had been part of the project which had failed so spectacularly, no amount of well-meaning assurances would clean away the guilt staining his conscious of that. But Jefferies’ offer showed him that he might be able to move on despite that, that he could work on through future failures, that Jefferies didn’t expect perfection or a never ending streak of successes.

Despite his youth and relative inexperience compared to others on the team, Jefferies argued that his instincts and raw talent, along with an impressive work ethic should be enough to gain him the sufficient rank to fill the position. So in March 2141, Lieutenant Trip Tucker joined Captain Jefferies’ Warp 2 engineering team.

One of the team was fellow Warp engineering-enthusiast Lieutenant Adam Connors. Adam was a few years older, out-going and a friend to everyone, even managing to rub elbows with the higher ups and yet keep the respect of his fellow crewmen. He and Trip started a secret sexual relationship, finding each other attractive and willing to fool around to let off steam. Not many of the team had long-term relationships, the long hours made it difficult to socialise with anyone else and relationships within the team were not advised. It was convenient and the pair liked each other well enough, but not too well, in order to keep things fun but not serious. Also, Trip was desperate to impress Captain Jefferies and fooling around with a team member would not be looked upon kindly.

It took a few weeks, but once the others saw his drive and fast-moving, problem-solving mind at work, they accepted him on the team. He was still the baby of the group, but he could live with that. Soon he found the ghosts of _Daedalus_ fading as he lost himself in matter-antimatter theory. After finally completing his engineering degree, he started on the specialist Orbital Engineering degree with Jefferies’ encouragement; he was living, breathing and sleeping Warp theory. He was happy.

…

The first time Trip saw Commander Jonathan Archer in person, he was in the middle of repairing something in the hangar. He’d just climbed out of a prototype engine to look for his hypospanner and was crouching by his toolbox, when he’d heard Captain Jefferies’ voice close by, which was not noteworthy in itself, until he heard a new voice.

“Fantastic!” Interested, he looked up and then his heart skipped a beat as he recognised the face. Trip was paralysed as Jonathan Archer walked by, enthusing about the engines to a stiff-looking Captain Jefferies. They didn’t see him, half-hidden by the machinery and so he watched, in awe at the man before him. He’d seen his photo before, in Fleet newsletters and public records. Archer was athletic, handsome and he had this charisma, this aura around him. Trip couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying, and would kick himself for it later, as he was so entranced by the man’s presence.

For a few weeks afterwards, Trip spent most of his shifts with half an ear out for that voice, hoping it would come by again. He was self-aware enough to know that he had a massive crush on the man. That it was half down to extended hero-worship of Henry Archer and half down to the Commander’s natural charm and good-looks. To his disappointment, he only ever saw the Commander in the distance or in the presence of higher ups, looking important as he discussed important things. As well as being a pilot, he helped out in ops, running events and overseeing certain aspects of the Warp project. Only Jefferies and occasionally his second, Commander Kallengan, ever interacted with Command and the pilots. Trip wondered where Archer spent time when he wasn’t in the hangar or control rooms, speculating that he must be at the Flight Academy or out on the town, maybe playing golf with the higher ups or engaging in drinking competitions with his fellow pilots. But hearing some of the rumours about the crazy stunts and macho posturing of the pilots on the project, he realised that it was probably for the best that he keep his distance.

Even if the man ever acknowledged him or showed any return interest, which was very unlikely, getting involved was a bad idea on an enormous scale. The disaster that had been Stuart was still fresh in Trip’s mind despite a number of years having passed.

Even if Archer wasn’t 15 years his senior, clearly straight and way out of his league, he was also a superior officer. Trip had heard the same rumours as all the recruits, the rumours of Ensigns and Lieutenants warming the beds of Captains and Admirals and regretting it. Reluctantly but wisely, he thought, he’d purposefully refrained from seeking the Commander out, kept his head down if he did see him and restricted himself to the bare minimum amount of dirty fantasies. Which was still quite a lot. Yes siree, Trip was the picture of restraint. He was sticking to his same rank rule, pledging to avoid the people he was most attracted to because that would inevitably lead to trouble. Archer was out of his reach and always would be. And that was for the best.

Then he’d accidentally waded into a multi-layered argument between Archer, Robinson and the Vulcans. He’d only reacted to the Vulcan’s claims he’d heard from inside the space craft. He hadn’t even realised Archer was there until he’d seen him and Commodore Forrest staring at him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. When Archer came up to him a few hours later, thanking him for his help and inviting him for a drink, it seemed like a strange dream. Sitting in the 602 club, concentrating on drinking his beer without spilling it all down himself like a moron, or blurting out any embarrassing compliments about his drinking companion, he couldn’t believe he was there. Desperate to disguise any telling looks he might accidentally give Archer, he played up his fixation on Ruby and tried to avoid looking Archer in the eye. The Commodore’s entrance stalled any conversation and the news he brought destroyed any hope left in the two men. Trip was glad he didn’t have to hide his devastation: almost two years of his life, wasted. He knew what ‘indefinitely’ meant in brass-speak and scrapping the entire engine design? First the _Daedalus_ disaster, now this? He knew he should try and be more optimistic, see this as an opportunity to do something else, but he couldn’t help the despair crawling through his belly. Maybe Jefferies was wrong, maybe you couldn’t work through failure, maybe it followed you like a curse. After drinking two sips of his beer, Forrest excused himself and Trip found himself relaxing a little despite himself.

He was surprised that Archer also seemed relieved when the Commodore left, but then on consideration, Forrest was also Archer’s superior. The air was still awkward and Trip was reminded of the old adage ‘never meet your heroes’. Although it might be more about the career-ending news hanging over them, it didn’t matter, at least this awkwardness might cure him of the crush.

But as they worked their way through their beers they both began to relax a bit more and Archer seemed to be interested in their conversation. There was still a gloom about them, but taking a chance, Trip related an old anecdote which had never failed to cheer someone up, tried and tested. To his secret delight, it worked on Archer as well. The Commander smiled and then chuckled a little, before relating a tale of his own. Trip felt a little better too and Archer’s aura started to pull him in again. He stopped worrying about keeping his cool and just basked in the warm charisma.

Then Robinson strolled in, invited himself to the table and all Hell broke loose. If it wasn’t bad enough to kick a man when he was down, insulting his father’s life work? That took a particular brand of self-assured assholery. Trip didn’t blame Archer for taking a swing, even if the intensity and length of the fight did worry him. Yeah, popping a few hits to someone who insulted you was one thing. But this, this was a grudge match and way too calculated to be blamed on drink and frustration. Thankfully, his and other’s intervention calmed the two down pretty quickly and Robinson stalked off, leaving Archer to sheepishly try to help clean up the mess. Ruby tutted and waved him away, ordering Trip to help him as he was clearly a bit worse for wear and needed to sleep it off.

After helping Archer into a taxi and watching it until it turned the corner, Trip told himself he was content to have managed to keep his dignity. It seemed that he had learnt his lesson after all. He had put the past behind him and now he could safely socialise with men he fancied without making a fool of himself. He wasn’t sure where he was going to be assigned next or what he was going to do but he went to his bed that night feeling elated and self-assured. Then the next afternoon he received a visit from a pair of sore-looking but excited Commanders and all his carefully constructed resolutions shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that borrows most heavily from the books. I had fun imagining how this traumatic event would inform the TV-version Trip's character and I like to think this contributed to his initial stance of sticking to regs in 'Silent Enemy'.


	3. Back to the Drawing Board

It wasn’t until he was sitting on the bunk in a cell in Starfleet’s detention centre that Trip realised that he was actually still 17 inside. He could tell himself all he liked that it was in the name of the program, of Human Space Exploration, of anything noble. But at the end of the day, he’d broken dozens of regulations and even laws, throwing away his career and quite possibly his freedom, for the immature desire to impress his crush.

To be fair, it had taken a considerable amount of charm from Archer and blunt force of will from Robinson before he’d agreed. Despite his desire to impress Archer, the ghost of the _Daedalus_ had given him pause. He knew first-hand what happened when ego was put ahead of safety, when individuals pulled away from the team. But on the other hand, it wasn’t just him alone who thought the intermix ratio was the issue, he’d discussed it with others on the team and they agreed. And hadn’t Jefferies told him to trust his instincts over all else, to put the problem, the technical knowledge before office politics? So he’d let himself be talked into it, convinced that their cause was worth the risk.

Staring at the far wall, eyes running over the pattern of the brick underneath the thick paint his mind raced as he doubted that conviction. He thought of the reactions of Starfleet Command, of his team, of his family. The image of his parent’s disappointed faces sliced him across the chest. All their sacrifices and thankless efforts in raising him right and he’d gone and wasted it. Oh God, and Jefferies, the man who had taken a chance on him after he’d almost lost hope in himself. He had been so desperate to impress him, to show him that he’d been right, but instead he’d proven just the opposite.

And yet, even in his turmoil and regret, still his mind kept on flashing back to those precious moments in _his_ presence. _If I had my own ship, I’d sign you up in a minute._ How his heart had jumped, how he’d scrambled for a casual remark. How the adrenaline had coursed through his veins like wildfire. He’d spent an entire day coming down from the high, feeling worse and worse as the reality of his situation had sunken in. Until he was just left waiting. Waiting to see how much his foolishness would cost him.

Turned out, he didn’t have to wait that long. The next morning, Captain Jefferies came to his cell door, flanked by two guards. Standing to attention, fighting nausea at the weight of his failure, Tucker waited for the axe to fall.

“Come.” Legs leaden, he obeyed immediately, following the Captain down the corridor and out to the reception. He signed the release forms, collected his personal affects and tried to keep his hands from shaking. When he was done, the Captain nodded sharply at the officers and they left. Clutching his returned security pass in his left hand, Tucker tried to keep his mind blank. He could still be asked to hand it back, he could still be stripped of his rank, still kicked off the program, still sent home in disgrace. _Just breathe, Tucker_. Finally, they reached Captain Jefferies’ office and entered. Jefferies stalked behind his desk and Tucker stopped in front of it, adopting an uncomfortable parade rest. He was stiff from stress and lack of sleep, but refused to let it show. There was a long moment of silence. Faintly, Trip could hear sounds from the square outside, laughter and footsteps and snatches of conversations floating in through the open window. He just looked at a corner of the window frame, head still lifted but tilted down slightly, in anticipation. Jefferies began in that quiet, tight voice that he reserved for cutting subordinates to ribbons.

“This incident has been marked classified. Disclosing any information concerning this matter to anyone will be considered a criminal offence and you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Is that clear?” Tucker responded immediately out of habit, though his voice came out quiet and hoarse.

“Yes, sir.” There was another small pause as the Captain drew himself up even straighter.

“Let me make one thing absolutely clear, Tucker. The only reason you are still part of this program is because you were right about the intermix ratio and the test was successful. But make no mistake, your place here is not unconditional. You will not speak out of turn, you will not break curfew, you will not remove any piece of equipment from the premises, no matter how small.” Tucker flinched at that. He’d never stolen anything in his life, and that condition, that implication of the lack of trust, hit him hardest. “And you will not even look at, let alone speak to, any visitors to the site unless asked a direct question, be they Vulcan, Starfleet command or hula girls. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Edge in his voice softening ever so slightly, Jefferies went on.

“I knew Henry Archer well, he was brilliant: a trailblazer and a truly great man. His son is cut from the same cloth. With some more training and experience, he will make an exceptional Captain.” Having worked out where this speech was going, Trip suddenly wanted to run. He didn’t want to hear this, couldn’t bear it. But duty kept him still and silent as the words burrowed into him.

“You are an engineer. A brilliant one. But just an engineer. That is all you will ever be. Not a pilot, an explorer, a ‘hero’ and after this, certainly never a Captain.” Fighting to keep his face blank, Trip felt his knuckles behind his back tighten. “Never forget that.” Sensing the end, Trip forced his shoulders to relax, loosening his fists and saying quietly.

“No, sir.” As succinct as ever, the Captain nodded, indicating that he’d finished with the matter.

“Report for beta shift at Hangar Bay 2. Anderson will catch you up.”

“Yes, sir.” Turning away to look out of the window, Jefferies muttered.

“Dismissed.” Lieutenant Tucker strode out, relief in his mind and pain in his heart.

…

Over the next three months, Lieutenant Tucker worked harder than he ever had in his entire life. He pulled double shifts in Engineering as often as he could, staying later than a standard shift when he couldn’t and working till he was kicked out by the night guards. Occasionally Jefferies himself would stalk over and order the Lieutenant to leave and get some sleep. If Jefferies tells you to stop working, then there’s no question that you are in fact, working too hard.

Although the rest of the team didn’t officially know the details, they’d heard and seen enough to work out the gist of it. In the spirit of solidarity and gratefulness for still having jobs, they worked with him. Plus, they were all workaholics anyway; you had to be, to be on Jefferies’ team. But even when not in the workshop or hangars, Tucker thought about the engines, dreamt about them. He read up everything he could, everything that he hadn’t already absorbed since being accepted into Jefferies’ team. Whilst the exact plans and details of their engines and other technology were classified, a lot of general Vulcan literature about Warp theory was publicly available. Unfortunately, only the major theorists’ work was translated, a lot of the material was still only in Vulcan. So it was either learn Vulcan or nab a translation matrix from somewhere. Useful pieces of equipment and very expensive, they were not exactly something an engineer could get for personal use. After one frustrating incident at the Requisitions Office, Trip just decided to build one himself.  The trouble, however, was that most Vulcan-English databases didn’t include technical engineering terms, making translations of the papers essentially meaningless in their simplicity. So in the end, he had to compile his own specific engineering database. He did it in his own time, something of short supply, with Adam’s help.

They hadn’t had sex since before the incident. Partly due to Tucker’s fear of disappointing Jefferies even more and partly due to a simple lack of time. They worked almost constantly, only pausing to eat, sleep and throw themselves under a faucet to stop from the cleaning crew from disinfecting them along with the ships. All their work paid off when Trip made a breakthrough about 3 months after the ‘Incident’. Captain Jefferies was even more pleased that it had been Tucker’s work, so he had concrete evidence to back up keeping the engineer in his team. What he hadn’t revealed to the young engineer, or anyone else on the team, was that if brass hadn’t seen any solid developments within a certain amount of time, they had been planning on reducing the team, starting with Trouble Maker #1. So the stoic Captain surprised everyone by ordering a round for the entire team at the 602 club that night. Later, he had taken Tucker aside and told him in no uncertain terms that he was not to return to the hangar for a week in order to get some sleep. For once, Trip was glad to agree.

...

Two days later, Jonathan Archer knocked on his door. Trip had tried, but he couldn’t resist saying yes to the invitation for a drink. The Commander’s amusement at Trip trying to surreptitiously clean up some of the mess in his room and questions about his translation matrix all but erasing his memory of Jefferies’ warning. That outing went even better than the last, not only did Trip keep from embarrassing himself but no one ended up in a fight. Archer was charming as always and he really listened to Trip’s explanation of the breakthrough, asking about his diving experience and laughing at Trip’s silly anecdotes. The poor engineer had had to give himself another stern talking to as he’d fallen into bed that night, trying and failing to stifle his smile or his giddiness.

               To Trip’s surprise, Archer’s interest in him – as a colleague and possible friend – didn’t wane. In fact, as the months went on, they ended up hanging out on a regular basis, often in a bar or club, as they were often both working flat out during the days, even weekends. They were both workaholics so when they cut loose, they really cut loose. Trip was reminded of his days as a cadet some nights, though Commander Responsibility always made sure they stopped themselves causing too much trouble. Trip had never had this much fun with a crush before and that made him all the more determined to keep Archer as a friend.

There were some negatives though; the main downside being Robinson. Whilst he wasn’t as handsome or charismatic as Archer, Robinson did have his own charm and knew how to get what he wanted, which was usually sexual favours. His ego, however, more than counteracted his sex appeal so people he considered beneath his notice – for example Trip and the rest of the engineering team – were left to hate him in peace. Also, the man seemed to have a problem with him, either ignoring him or curling his lip at him if the Lieutenant dared to say anything in his presence. Because of this smarmy condescension and also being occupied with crushing on Archer, Trip never seriously considered Robinson in any sexual light. No more than acknowledge he could understand why some people did deign to sleep with him.

Another problem came indirectly in the form of Commander Duvall. A short and thickly-built man, although a decent pilot and well-liked by Command, he was obnoxious and arrogant. But he himself wasn’t the problem, hell, Trip knew of dozens of this type of man throughout the organization. No, the problem was his sister, Captain Monique Duvall, who had died on _Daedalus_. Due to the colossal failure it represented, no one at Starfleet much talked about it anymore except as an example of a badly-managed project. Trip wasn’t even sure that any of the pilots knew he had even worked on the project, he hadn’t been in the main team and his role in the investigation was confidential, and he definitely wasn’t going to ask around to make sure any time soon. But to his dismay and deepened guilt, he discovered that Archer had known Monique, had known her quite well if he correctly interpreted the comments made when she had been brought up within his hearing. It was another bar of guilt around his heart that squeezed and burned whenever he thought about it, whenever he shot out of bed, sweating and gasping for breath. Over time the nightmares had lessened in frequency, but he believed now that they would never leave him completely. There was a period when they grew worse as he began seeing Archer on the bridge of the _Daedalus_ just before it was vaporised, with Trip pounding uselessly on the glass of the observation deck.

Needless to say that Trip avoided the other pilots as much as possible.

…

Finally, after about one year from Archer and Robinson’s stunt, the Vulcans admitted that the engine design didn’t, in fact, need to be changed and testing began again in earnest.

Just before the decision, Commander Kallengan, Captain Jefferies’ second in Command, resigned his commission to start a family, leaving a space in the team. Adam was swiftly promoted to Commander and became the new number two of the project. Trip told himself he wasn’t jealous, even as Captain’s Jefferies’ warning words rang in his head, mocking him. After the announcement, they mutually decided to end their arrangement. Neither of them wanted the headache of inter-rank involvement, even if it was casual, and they remained as friendly as they could with one now officially senior to the other. Trip didn’t think any more about their past arrangement until one night a few weeks after Adam’s promotion when he was coming out of the 602 club alone.

“Hey Lieutenant!” Startled out of his thoughts, Trip turned and saw Commander Robinson step out of the shadows. Stomach dropping as he instantly recognised the Commander’s intentions, the engineer gave an awkward half-smile and said respectfully as he continued on his way.

“Commander.” As he suspected, Robinson joined him, hands in his pockets, looking nonchalant and eager at the same time.

“Wait up! Where are you going?” Trip cleared his throat and said quietly.

“I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”

“Ah come on, the night is still young,” Trip braced himself and then, “how about you come back to mine? For a nightcap?” Now deeply uncomfortable, he glanced briefly in the Commander’s direction before starting.

“Thanks for the offer.” He swallowed, unable to think of something polite and plausible. “But no.” Robinson’s eyes narrowed and he said casually.

“Huh, I guess Connors was wrong about you.” Taken by surprise by the comment, Trip stopped walking and Robinson stopped too, gaze intense as he waited for the inevitable question. Trip searched the Commander’s face and managed to get the gist of what must have happened, gritting his teeth in mortification and anger at his supposed friend. He was made even more angry at Robinson’s smug and creepy smirk. Finally, Trip snapped.

“Guess he was.” And he turned away, walking on. Robinson called after him, determined.

“He’s straight you know.” Trip kept on going, not bothering to continue playing along. Though he frowned, not quite sure what Robinson meant as Connors was demonstrably not ‘straight’... “Archer, he’s as straight as they come.” There it was. Trip froze. Obviously, he hadn’t been as subtle as he’d thought. Goddammit, why had Robinson noticed, of all people? The pit that had opened inside him was gaping now and the inevitability was suddenly exhausting. _Why do I do this to myself? Why am I like this?_ He thought desperately as he turned back.

“I know that.”

“Do you?” Robinson was very close now and backing Trip against the rough brick of the alleyway. Forced to look up and into those gleaming eyes, Trip felt his heart begin to pound and blood rush south. He’d seen Robinson pursuing someone and had intellectually understood the appeal, but to have the full force of that attention turned on him was a revelation. He swallowed, hard, head spinning with the few beers he’d had that night and the flush of arousal.

“I see the way you look at him.” Robinson leaned in, one hand resting on the wall beside Trip’s head, bending down so they were sharing breath. Logically, Trip knew that he would hate himself, hate them both, come the morning, but his body shivered in response to the forced intimacy. “Like you want to fuck yourself stupid on his cock.” Weakly, he protested.

“That’s none of your business.” Smirking triumphantly, Robinson whispered.

“No, but it would be a shame if he found out, wouldn’t it?” A hand began idly toying with the zip of Trip’s sports coat. “Wouldn’t want to make things awkward, would we?” He grinded his groin against Trip’s and Trip closed his eyes at the dual sensation of lust and shame. “Whatever would golden boy think?” Frustrated, Trip cursed angrily.

“Son of a-mphf” Robinson cut him off, slamming his lips over Trip’s, pressing his whole body down hard and hands gripping the younger man firmly, possessively. Groaning despite himself, overwhelmed by the strong grip and masculine scent, Trip felt his resolve and misgivings melting under those insistent fingers, probing tongue forcing itself into his mouth. It had been a long time since someone had tried to seduce him. Though ‘seduce’ was a generous term for the manhandling going on. Unable to resist the attention and throwing away any rational thought, he began to respond, sucking on Robinson’s tongue and clasping at his back. The Commander moaned back and they grappled for a while, frotting and grunting and panting. Now thoroughly turned on, Trip half-protested as Robinson pulled away, and his stomach twisted as Robinson rasped.

“Taxi.” Gulping, Trip watched him stagger out of the alley and to the street, looking around. Stiffly, Trip pushed himself off the wall and followed, body fizzing with energy and nerves and tension. He was already regretting it but he’d given up fighting the self-destructive impulse. Vaguely, he wished he’d had more to drink earlier, so he could blame that instead of him just being a desperate slut, as Robinson taunted him with later whilst they were making out in the turbolift in his apartment block. Trip responded with a not-so-playful bite to the Commander’s bottom lip but didn’t dispute the term. It was true after all.

…

To Trip’s eternal gratitude, Commander Robinson seemed to consider their ‘encounter’ as a one-time thing and didn’t show any interest, sexual or otherwise, in him again. He wondered if Robinson hadn’t thought he was very good and that was the reason, but then, unless the man was just uncontrollably expressive during sex, he’d seemed to enjoy it. Really enjoy it. Then Trip forced himself to stop thinking about it because it had been wrong and stupid and he was glad it was over and thoroughly behind him. Though the morning after, Jon had come to find him in the hangar and asked him how he was doing. It wouldn’t have been a noteworthy event if it weren’t for a certain awkwardness in Jon’s body language. He hadn’t quite looked Trip in the eye. This had set off minor paranoia in the young engineer that he hadn’t been able to shake until later that day in which he had a meeting between his team and the pilots, Robinson included. He watched everyone carefully whilst trying to act normally: there had been no smirks or winks from Robinson and then afterwards Jon had asked if he wanted to try this new restaurant which had opened up locally. Everything seemed completely normal. As far as everything else in life went, it was business as usual. Swift progress was being made in the Warp project and the Vulcans were keeping their naysaying to a minimum; that in itself was cause for celebration.

In the winter of 2144, they finally broke Warp 3 with Commander Duvall in the pilot seat. Jon never talked to Trip about it, so the engineer wasn’t sure if Jon was annoyed at being passed up again, or taking a more circumspect view. But then all the pilots were regularly flying on rotation and Trip heard the theory that Command was holding back the best candidates for the Warp 5 ship in the works, not wanting any accidents to narrow their choices for the big mission. And Jonathan Archer was definitely one of those candidates. His promise to take Trip with him when he had a ship of his own still floated into the engineer’s dreams every so often. But when awake, he never let himself think about it for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there’s not anything at all really on Captain Jefferies in the show and other literature, just that he existed. I thought about him as a model for Trip’s command style. Encouraging safety, hard graft and good work whilst reprimanding carelessness, laziness or general bad conduct. Though Trip throws in a little light humour and harmless pranking because of his nature. In my headcanon Jefferies is passionate about the Warp program but also a practical man. He fights to keep Trip in the team after the stunt, secretly glad that it paid off and the program continued, but outwardly very disappointed in Trip’s conduct and concerned for Trip’s future if he doesn’t learn to play the political game. He sees Jon as a potential ally for Trip who could help him move up in Starfleet but also a potential downfall.
> 
> About Robinson, again not much about him apart from that episode. I see him as someone who skirts close to the edge of the rules, maybe flouting some, but always able to cover his back with some loophole or secondary clause. So about him sleeping with other Starfleet personnel. His method is to test the waters, get recommendations of people to sleep with rather than ‘try’ someone new himself. Then he could see if they were able to be discreet/not put up a fuss/get clingy. So when Adam lets slip about Trip, Robinson knows that Trip can be discreet (the stunt) and as he’s crushing on Jon, he’d unlikely to get clingy to him.
> 
> I have Starfleet being a bit liberal in this story: relationship within same rank = fine; relationship between ranks = subordinate has to initiate it and they can’t be in the same chain of command (i.e. a Lieutenant in Security could date an Ensign in the Science department). For Captains on long-service ships, they wrote in a clause that the Captain could date but would have to declare the relationship and another senior officer would monitor the couple to ensure no bias. As Starfleet monitors all personnel and their inter-personnel relationships for signs of bias, they consider romantic relationships as no different. At least in this story.


	4. Trial Phase

After five years in Starfleet, Trip finally had a full two weeks Christmas leave, much to the joy of his mom, who regularly griped that he never found enough time to visit home. It was bad enough that he’d already missed Thanksgiving that year, as he’d decided to stay and work through another setback resulting from the latest test flight. One day close to his leave, he was telling Jon about a traditional Tucker Christmas in the Mess attached to the Engineering workshops. It wasn’t until he’d gotten to the post-dinner charades game that he realised that Jon had gone kind of quiet. In fact, now that he thought about it, Jon had been looking a little down for a few days. Trip quickly wrapped up what he was saying and asked casually.

“So, what are your plans for the holiday?” Not looking up from his almost pulverized questionable-meat pie, Jon hummed.

“Oh, well, not much really. I might go back to New York and see an aunt I still have other there.” Well didn’t that make Trip feel terrible. Here he’d been talking nine to the dozen about his massive family and their traditions when Jon didn’t have anyone.

“Huh, well if you want a change of pace, why don’t you come over to mine?” Head lifting, Jon gave him a small, sad smile.

“Oh, thanks for the offer but I couldn’t intrude.”

“Nonsense! My folks would love to have you over!” His friend smiled politely, but was obviously about to refuse again. Luckily Trip had known Jon for about 18 months now and one of the first things he’d learned was that the pilot couldn’t back down from a challenge. So he said off-handedly. “Though I guess a city boy like you couldn’t survive long out in Nature.”

As predicted, this caught Jon’s attention. He looked up again, eyebrow raised and lips half-way to a smile.

“Is that right?” Trip shrugged, taking a casual sip of his coffee. Jon eyed him suspiciously before breaking and chuckling. “How much you bet?” Trip just grinned.

He almost regretted inviting Jon when the man garnered more attention than he did, and not just from his teenage cousins and maiden aunts, even his brother and uncles wanted to bend Jon’s ear about everything they could think of. There were a few big city boy comments, especially when it was revealed that Jon had been born in New York, but it was all in good fun and the man gave as good as he got. Trip got a real kick out of seeing Jon sitting at his family table, tucking in to dinner whilst deep in conversation with his dad and then humouring the kids when the presents were being handed out, glass of mulled wine in hand and a soft smile on his face.

Then later, he spotted Jon blushing and awkwardly trying to detangle himself from Trip’s fawning maiden aunts without being rude. That hit Trip right in the heart. He felt like his cup was overflowing. It was all he could do to stop himself from accidentally-on-purpose catching the man underneath the mistletoe and not letting go. His mama came over and commented quietly.

“You should bring that poor boy over more often.” He just grinned.

“I will.”

…

The following summer, Jon decided to take Trip up on the offer of diving lessons and Trip’s self-control was put to the test again. Ten days in close quarters, spending almost every waking hour with his friend. Trip had gotten to the point when he could spend time with Jon and forget his romantic feelings. But there was a reason Trip pretended not to have an interest in water polo so he could beg off going to the casual games Jon played.

Jon in swim trunks: the firm musculature on his torso glistening with droplets of water caught in the dark hairs on his chest… It was the sweetest torture Trip knew. Strangely, his guilt over his dirty secret, sex with Jon’s asshole friend Robinson, helped a little in curtailing his arousal when faced with a near-naked Jon. What also helped was his growing annoyance at Jon’s natural diving ability. Techniques which had taken Trip, and surely everyone else who had ever learnt how to dive, countless hours of practice, Jon would master first time. Bruised pride aside, what frustrated Trip even more was how this prowess increased his admiration of the man. How could someone be so perfect for him and yet so unattainable? He was aware by now that the man wasn’t in fact ‘perfect’. His main faults being a certain bull-headedness and a tendency to lecture people on things they already knew about. But his positive attributes: charisma, ambition, surprising tenderness and caring – at least when it came to dogs and girlfriends – meant that if Trip had been asked to describe his ideal partner, Jonathan Archer would come pretty close.

When Jon mentioned wanting to go on a night dive, Trip felt torn. He clearly remembered what had happened the last time he’d taken a crush on a romantic moonlit dive. But at the same time, he knew that they’d both enjoy it. What kind of man was he if he let past failures stop him from living fully? So he decided that he had to make the tone as different as possible. Drawing inspiration from his frustration at Jon’s natural talent, he concocted a risky plan that would guarantee the night would not end in a similar manner. So he told Jon about this beautiful site full of luminescent creatures and eagerly they sailed out that same night to explore it. They dove down into the water and swam among the many coloured lights, Trip feeling warm and happy at Jon’s obvious delight. After a time, they resurfaced and Trip pulled out his mouth piece to say.

“There’s a cave just there, full of star fish.” Smiling around his mouth piece, Jon gave a thumbs up and they dived back down again. Anticipation running through him, he led the way and pointed to a large hole in the bottom of the cave wall. Jon reached in and jerked back in shock as a huge Moray eel wrapped around his arm viciously. Good ol’ Waldo the Eel was on form to help Trip get some petty revenge. He almost felt proud of the creature. It wouldn’t be able to really hurt anyone through their suits, so the risk was minimal, the entertainment factor on the other hand... Trip watched Jon flail for a few seconds before making his way over to help, but he stopped when the eel suddenly went limp and Jon lifted it so high Trip could see the eel’s tail. Almost agog in shock, Trip hardly breathed as Jon shook the eel off and it snapped back into its hole. Jon turned to him giving the okay signal and then the up signal. Trip returned them and swam out, wondering what the Hell had happened. Once they’d surfaced, Jon chuckled and told him that he’d found a pressure point under the eel’s jaw and that had allowed him to shake himself free. Well, wasn’t that something.

Jon never said it outright, but Trip had the feeling that he’d realised Trip’s plan and was highly amused by the complete failure it had turned out to be. It would be just like Mr Perfect to work it out and decide to keep from wounding his friend’s pride any more. Over dinner that night, steak and lobster and Kentucky Bourbon, Trip watched Jon as he ate and chatted and enjoyed the view of the breeze rippling through nearby trees and realised with little surprise that he was in love.

Trip had never been in love before. Lisa had been dear in his heart but the passion hadn’t been there. He’d been disastrously attracted to Stuart and ever since then had held himself back from anyone else he’d kissed or had sex with. But now, sitting in that little seaside restaurant, protected against the cool breeze by the mere presence of this amazing man, it was obvious. Typical, he tried so hard to avoid messing up again and now he’d gone and fallen for not only someone unattainable, but someone he was around almost every day. He was so deep into his musings that Jon stopped talking mid-sentence and stared at him, bemused. Trip blinked and cleared his throat. Jon chuckled.

“You okay? I think I lost you there.” Swallowing down some sickeningly lovey responses that apropos of nothing had sprung into his head. Trip forced himself to focus.

“I’m just thinking what a great holiday this has been.” Grinning, Jon agreed, glancing around the bay.

“Yeah, I really needed this.” He turned back to Trip, eyes dancing as he said sincerely. “Thank you.” For once uncaring what his friend might read into his facial expressions or words, Trip just smiled.

“My pleasure.”

…

The next two and a half years passed in a whirlwind of hard work and elbow grease, broken up by long drinking sessions, holidays at the coast or at the Tuckers’ and the occasional romance. More often than not Jon was the one who put the time and effort in to date with Trip counting down the weeks until the relationship inevitably didn’t work out. Not that Jon was a bad boyfriend, he was just so dedicated to his life at Starfleet, he didn’t have enough of himself to really spare for a long-term relationship, especially with someone outside of the organisation. His eternal optimism made this hard for him to accept, however.

Trip himself only once saw someone often enough in a row to perhaps be called ‘dating’. Jamie, an Irish mechanic who lived locally, reminded him a lot of Adam; energetic, out-going and always up for a laugh. Trip met him when out with his engineering friends and for about six months they would hook up whenever they saw each other. It was a departure from Trip’s usual type as Jamie was actually a year younger than him and the complete opposite of an authority figure. Born and bred in the ‘old country’, his accent stood out amongst the crowd, and he told the most hilarious stories of his antics both at home and from travelling around the USA. He’d seen more of the country than most of the people at the bar, making a lot of friends and fixing a lot of motors along the way. Someone had commented that he should join Starfleet to explore the universe but he’d just smiled, saying he needed to feel firm earth beneath his feet to be truly happy. He and Trip spent a lot of evenings and early mornings wrapped up together dancing the horizontal tango. 

Spending time with his gregarious lover was a great stress-reliever and he’d actually learnt to enjoy anal sex a lot more than his first two attempts. When he’d been fooling around with Adam, they’d rarely had more time or energy for a quick hand or blow job, the latter which Trip had gotten really skilled at. Through a mixture of charm and pornographic moaning whenever Trip penetrated him, Jamie persuaded Trip to allow some fingers up there and wow… Staring up at the ceiling, trying to calm his breathing after the most powerful orgasm of his life, Jamie humming contentedly as he nestled beside him, it suddenly hit Trip that either Stuart had been almost as inexperienced as he’d been or a douchebag of the highest order. Because that… He shivered with remembered pleasure and tugged the blankets a little higher over the both of them. Come to think of it, Robinson hadn’t been much better, impatient dick – literally! So maybe it’d been the endorphins talking when he asked Jamie out on a real date. The man had looked at him fondly and said ‘why the hell not?’.

Somehow, most likely from the loud-mouthed Fuller, word got around about his booty call/boyfriend, so even though he’d never mentioned anything specific to Jon, his friend ended up finding out anyway. He was currently dating someone at the time and suggested a double date, causing Trip to put everything he could into suppressing his horror at the idea. He was glad that Jon wasn’t reacting badly to the revelation, though his friend admitted being a little hurt that Trip hadn’t told him himself. On the other hand, he was uncomfortable with those two parts of his life colliding. He tried to explain it to Jon, but his friend had gone on about being true to himself and not hiding anything from his partner and Trip didn’t have the heart to reveal just how superficial his ‘relationship’ with Jamie really was. Sure they had great fun together, even when fully clothed, but it wasn’t like they’d bared their souls to each other or anything.

Luckily, or unluckily, Jamie had found the idea of a double date with Trip’s friend and superior officer hilarious and had instantly agreed when Trip had half-jokingly floated the idea. A free spirit and terminal wanderer, Jamie had never done anything as normal as a ‘double date’ and actually insisted that they go to a fancy restaurant, dress up nicely and behave themselves during dinner. Not sure exactly what Jon had heard about his boyfriend and fearing that said boyfriend would end up mocking his friend to his face, Trip was very nervous and spend half the night before thinking up increasingly ridiculous plans to get out of it. To his great surprise, however, nothing disastrous happened. Jon was his charming self, his girlfriend of the time, Sarah, was nice enough and Jamie was indeed on his best behaviour, telling appropriate stories, complementing the food and generally displaying proper manners throughout. Trip was quieter than usual at first, unsure how to act and waiting for Jamie to drop the act and say something incredibly embarrassing, but with gentle encouragement from Jon and Jamie, he relaxed and came out of his shell a little. When collecting their coats, Jon had pulled Trip to the side and said approvingly that he thought Jamie was good for him. The engineer was very taken aback by that, unsure how to feel. His world was further tilted when on the way home, after parting ways with the other couple, Jamie had asked casually how long he’d been in love with Jon. Cursing his innate openness, Trip had tried to act causal in return, answering flippantly and Jamie never broached the subject again.

A year after they’d met, Jamie’s muse called to him and he decided to hit the road again. He and Trip had an emotional goodbye, having grown to care for each other more than they’d realised, but eventually, Trip waved sadly as Jamie had gunned his motorcycle down the road and off into the sunrise. Jon bought him a few rounds of beer and massaged his shoulder in sympathy and over time, the ache in Trip’s heart faded. Slowly, things returned to normal.

…

Then Trip’s comfortable existence of doing the job he loved and quietly being in love with Jon was rocked by two ‘events’. The first being the disastrous training mission on Titan in January 2148. Thankfully, Trip didn’t really remember much of the actual mission, just an overwhelming sense of panic and Jon’s tinny voice commanding him through the comm. And the cold. He’d never forget the cold. But something else he also carried with him was the heavy warmth of Jon’s hand on his shoulder in the Medbay as he was being reoxygenated. Even as he’d felt vices crushing his chest and the cold hand of Death, he hadn’t felt alone.

Safely back on Earth, he had only just gotten past the worst of a new set of nightmares, mostly featuring Jon’s face stretched in horror and the all-consuming cold, when the second event occurred. Trip had noticed Jon looking positively sunny all the time, even whistling on occasion as he walked around the hangar or around the Command centre. This continued for a few days before he finally asked the man what had him so happy. On reflection, he wasn’t sure why Jon’s announcement that he’d shared the night with Commander Hernandez took him by surprise. Jon was a good-looking man and on track for Captaincy of a ship, of course he would be sought after. Trip knew the drill, Jon would date a fantastic, sexy, intelligent woman for as long as he could before she realised that he would never give up his dream of space exploration for her and then she’d reluctantly dump him. The simple fact was that he and Jon both worked too hard for that kind of commitment. Didn’t they? But this assumption was proved wrong as Jon went on an increasing number of dates with the beautiful and witty Erika, cutting into his free time usually spent with Trip. Knowing he had no claim on Jon’s heart, Trip tried not to feel resentful and failed miserably. He went out a few times with his engineering friends and flirted with people in bars but couldn’t bring himself to go home with anyone. He hadn’t been with anyone since Jamie but didn’t like to examine that thought too closely.

The first test to Jon and Erika’s relationship was when he had to spend three weeks half-way across the world for survival training. Not that Trip was thinking of the assignment in those terms of course. He’d had minimal contact with the girlfriend, mostly seeing her as she came to collect Jon for whatever date they had planned. Tuckers were notoriously terrible liars and he couldn’t hide his dislike of Jon and Erika’s relationship whenever Jon talked about it, though Jon seemed to interpret it as dislike of Erika herself. He’d asked some not-so-subtle questions and Trip had tried his best to pretend that he was just jealous that Jon had someone and he didn’t. He wasn’t sure how successful he was.

Even though it was technically winter in the Outback, it was still hotter than Hell. They joined their group on a dusty road in the middle of nowhere and listened as attentively to the course leader as they could in the baking sun. Never a fan of snakes in the first place, Trip liked them even less now he knew what they tasted like. Part of him was thankful for the constant suffocating heat and challenge of completing the course unscathed as it kept Jon from going on and on about how amazing Erika was. They’d only been dating for two months but it was already clear how compatible they were – at least from what he’d gathered from Jon’s view of her. Jonathan Archer was usually a very good judge of character, so Trip didn’t hold out much hope that he’d been duped this time. And the length of time indicated that this was a departure from the standard pattern. Miserably, Trip predicted that they might even go all the way. So he wasn’t surprised that when they arrived back, sunburnt and exhausted but pleased to have passed, she was there to greet her man at the port.

…

“What are you doin’? Thought we’d decided we’d let the engineer deal with the packing.” Trip laughed as he watched Jon struggle to pull out a bag out of the trunk of his car and push it back in diagonally. They were up early in order to drive to the coast, so the sun was still rising, their faces and the car not yet fully illuminated. Whilst Trip didn’t really know the corals off the West coast, he’d gotten some tips of nice places to go from his diving buddies at his uncle’s school, so he and Jon were spending a week’s leave during the summer exploring new territory for both of them. Jon panted and explained.

“I’m making some space. For Erika’s things.” Trip froze in surprise as Jon went on. “She said she’d done some snorkelling in the past, so I thought...” He saw Trip’s expression and paused in loading the car. “It’s okay for her to come along, right?” Hurriedly, Trip wiped his face and forced a smile.

“Sure, of course. The more the merrier!” Jon’s face had that ‘I-don’t-quite-believe-you-but-okay’ look and so Trip busied himself with checking the gauges on the dashboard, even though he already knew everything was in working order. When they climbed into the car, Jon also had a wide grin on and said in a cheery tone.

“I’m glad you said that.”

“Huh?”

“Because I may have said she could bring a friend.” Eyebrow raising, Trip held back a sigh and just favoured Jon with a mock-exasperated look. Damn man, couldn’t even stay mad at him for five minutes. They detoured to pick their fellow divers: Erika and her friend, Natalie. Jon valiantly springing out to help arrange their bags as Trip tried to be sociable. It was little comfort that Natalie seemed as awkward about the thing as he was. In fact, it made him feel even worse when Erika kept on mentioning how great Natalie was, the woman herself blushing and trying to downplay her achievements and fantastic qualities. One look at Jon’s guilty expression and Trip decided that he would just have to grin and bear it. Making Jon happy was his MO; he could do this.

He was absolutely fine.

…

Trip spent a lot of the week looking out to the ocean, slightly to the side of the couple or sometimes completely facing the opposite direction. It was exhausting to be as enthusiastic about everything as normal whilst feeling like crap, so he did the bare minimum and found as many excuses to leave them alone as possible. Not that this was a difficult thing to do with Erika constantly coming up with ideas of fun things for Trip and Natalie to do whilst she and Jon, the ‘boring’ lot, did something else.

Once out of sight of the happy couple, both Trip and Natalie would go through the motions of whatever thing Erika had proposed, often not speaking or sharing so much as a glance. For the first ten minutes on day 1, Trip had made the effort of making small talk and trying to seem interested in her life, even as he could see his companion wasn’t at all convinced. Thankfully Natalie had taken pity on him and rather bluntly stated that they didn’t need to pretend to each other; they were just doing this to make their friends happy and so he could brood all he liked. He took her up on that offer gratefully.

He didn’t often wallow in self-pity, brought up to face things head on, arguing to clear the air and work through problems. But now his instinct to confide his feelings to Jon was being surpassed by his desire to keep Jon happy and shame for his feelings. His love for Jon was unrequited and he didn’t want his friend to see him as a naïve kid. Especially in front of his perfect girlfriend. Yes, Trip had officially reverted to an insecure teenager.

Trip would feel bad about being a bad ‘host’ to Natalie, however unwilling his role was, but he was just too pissed off and hurting to bring himself to make more of an effort. His companion didn’t complain, seeming unbothered by the long silences and even enjoying exploring the sights (almost) by herself.

However, as the week went on, he shook himself out of his funk and he and Natalie actually managed to have some fun. As long as they ignored their matchmaker’s not-so-subtle questions after every outing. There were a lot of awkward moments all round. But everything was fine. Trip was fine. At the end of the trip, he got Natalie’s number…just in case.

…

“When are you taking the Command course modules?” Trip and Jon were grabbing some coffee in the little crew mess just off the main Engineering section of the Warp Five complex, leaning against the counters and trying not to yawn, when Jon had spoken suddenly. The question threw Trip for a moment as he tried to work out what Jon meant, the fog around his brain slowing his thought processes down.

“Oh, I uh, I haven’t…” Jon frowned, explaining as if Trip didn’t already know protocol.

“Well, if you’re going to be Chief Engineer on _Enterprise_ , you’ll need to have training for a head of department and for First Officer.” Trip was taken aback by Jon’s assumption. He cleared his throat and began cautiously.

“Okay, head of Engineering, yes I can see that but… First Officer?” He bit his lip. Captain Jefferies’ hated words rang in his ears. Ever since that highly memorable dressing down he’d never given Command a thought. Jefferies was right, he should stick to Engineering. Jon seemed confused.

“Why wouldn’t you go for First Officer?” Feeling embarrassed and tired, Trip bit out.

“Well, look at me. I’m not exactly Command-material, am I?” Jon’s frown deepened and he barked with a sudden anger.

“Who the hell said that?” Not sure where Jon’s passion was coming from and not eager for Jon to agree with Captain Jefferies’ assessment, as he knew Jon held the man in high regard, Trip just shrugged.

“Just you know, people in general.” This did not appease his friend.

“Well they’re wrong! You’d make a great First Officer!” Still feeling wrong-footed by the whole conversation, Trip nodded and said placatingly.

“Okay I’ll look into it.” Jon wasn’t having that though. Jaw set in that tell-tale sign of adopting a new mission, he marched Trip to the Course Centre and watched as he filled in the application for the next course. Trip wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, he was flattered and warmed by Jon’s faith in his abilities and potential, on the other, he feared that Jon was wrong and Trip would soon be found out as the fraud he was.

Despite his misgivings, Trip learnt lots of interesting things on the Command course: the most important skill to learn was to judge when to intervene and when to let subordinates work. Sometimes a leader could take away from someone’s opportunity to learn for themselves or distract them from their jobs. It was actually quite interesting and Trip found himself thinking of his commanding officers and their different styles. To his surprise, he found himself passing the first round of practical modules, small engineered scenarios with staff acting as their subordinates with various problems to solve. Trip told himself to always take a breath to consider how to approach a situation, even in the scenarios with a time-pressure. It seemed to serve him well.

Another development in his life, much to his mom’s delight, was in his love life. He buckled underneath the loneliness and smothering concern from his family and rang Natalie’s number. She was as amiable and bored of her life as he remembered. It was obvious to both of them that they weren’t a particularly well-matched couple; they didn’t share many interests and their time together was often spent in silence, each deep in their own thoughts. Even the sex felt a bit perfunctory. Trip didn’t really have the time to spare to go looking for a life partner in earnest – he didn’t share Jon’s optimism about an office romance – and Natalie lacked the energy. So there they were. Of course Trip couldn’t pretend to Jon that he was deliriously happy with Natalie but he managed to portray a general contentment when questioned.

On February 2nd 2149, Starfleet Command announced that they would start laying the keel for _Enterprise_ , with the expected launch date of May 2151. The question of who would make up the crew consumed everyone’s waking thought, even though they likely wouldn’t appoint anyone, not even the Captain, until closer to the launch. Trip had completed all of the Command modules and training by that time; he’d passed but there wasn’t a Commander position available, so all it meant was that he could be promoted if the opportunity were to arise. Jon seemed sure that he would be chosen for Chief Engineer of the _Enterprise_. Trip had gotten sick of the pep talk he received whenever he expressed doubt about that, so he stopped protesting if it happened to come up. There was a little part of him, however, that pointed out that he did have a good chance amongst the other candidates. He was one of the most knowledgeable about the engines, he’d worked on the project for years and he was qualified to command. His only real competition was Commander Connors; someone who had been promoted over him previously, someone who Command actually liked. He’d had more interaction with them, even playing golf with Admiral Black on occasion. He would get it. He was charming and smooth-talking, not much as Jon but… He knew how to play the game. Connors would be chosen. Trip was sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know in canon Trip and Erika aren’t mean to know each other but, if Jon was dating her just before he got Captaincy of Enterprise then that’s weird, right? I suppose they could have dated in another period of time but meh, this is my story. Also, if you want an account of the sex between Trip and Robinson, there’s a companion piece coming.


	5. Final Checks

The beginning of 2150 brought the data collection for the three-yearly medical and general competency reports. Whilst every member of Starfleet had individual progress reports regularly updated by their supervisors, which included any relevant medical notes, it was Starfleet policy to keep track of how the staff were distributed throughout the organisation and evaluate if any resources needed to be re-allocated or re-trained. It was a hold-over from the early days of Starfleet when personnel were very thin on the ground. So every member of Starfleet underwent a routine physical, which included blood tests, tox screens and basic fitness tests; emergency drills and basic tests of competency across the core disciplines – engineering, piloting and self-defence (armed and non-armed) – and finally, a general interview on how they felt they were contributing to the organisation.

Trip had always been good at written tests and exams, as long as he had the core principals of a discipline in his head, he could usually figure out what the questions were asking and answer correctly. The physical tests, however, were more hit-and-miss. He was in good shape due to his active job – though muscle cramps from crawling around in tight spaces were common, so the doctor doing his physical had recommended some stretches he could do to alleviate those. However, he’d never been the most coordinated person, there was a good reason he only danced when heavily drunk, so shooting and basic defensive manoeuvres had never come naturally to him. In preparation, he joined Jon in a defence class and actually enjoyed trying to take Jon down. For such a well-built man, Jon could be very fast and Trip had to work to claw some victories from the string of defeats early on. Their competition carried on in the shooting range, though to Trip’s dismay he had no chance of catching up to Jon’s almost impeccable record. Trip grumbled that Archer had many years of throwing balls in hoops to practice his aim and that was why he was miles better – although he secretly attributed most of Jon’s advantage to his God-given natural ability at everything ever. Still, Trip showed enough improvement that he wasn’t worried about the shooting test.

What he dreaded most was the interview. He’d never had any knack for figuring out what answers they wanted in these kinds of things. It always unnerved him to see the interviewer writing as Trip babbled on about how great Starfleet was; he always wondered what insights about his character they were writing down. As people often pointed out to him, he was not what you’d call a smooth talker, even though some said he didn't know how to shut up. Once, years ago, he’d asked Adam how he tackled the interviews and received the unhelpful reply that Adam just smiled and said everything they wanted to hear. He didn’t bother asking Jon, already knowing the answer he’d get. So it was with no small trepidation that he entered the psychologist’s office that morning.

Objectively, the interview was going fine. Dr Amari was very warm and friendly but professional at the same time. She was nowhere near as clinical as the other doctors he’d encountered and her office reflected that, with personal touches scattered around. They’d made some small talk as Tucker had come in and he’d accepted her offer of a glass of water, knowing from experience how much of a toll on the voice these things could be. The good doctor had asked him all the standard questions: What is your role? Do you feel you are performing well? Are there any areas you’d like to improve? How would you rate your work-life balance? Could Starfleet help you with anything? How do you feel about the organisation? Are you happy? etc, etc. Then quite suddenly she asked him, almost off-hand.

“So who do you think will be Captain of the _Enterprise_?” That threw him. They’d already covered all of what he’d expected to be asked, was this a casual question or still part of the interview? It had been said speculatively enough. Unsure, he forced out something about not being high enough in the food chain to guess who they’d choose. Amari smiled. “Sorry, let me re-phrase, who do you think should be Captain?”

“Jonathan Archer.” It took him a moment to realise that he’d responded without hesitation. _Dammit! She was writing again! Quick, give her reasons so you don’t look like a moron!_ “He’s driven and intelligent – haven’t seen him stumped for what to do very often. And if he doesn’t know he gets advice and then, he always makes the right decision. Dedicated: I think he puts in more hours than everyone else combined! He’s worked on the project for so many years; he knows the history of the project better than anyone. Everyone knows his father gave his life to that engine and that gave Jon such a… a burden you could say but he doesn’t see it that way. He sees it as his responsibility to see this through, to see _Enterprise_ fly. He won’t ever forget, or let anyone else forget, the mission.” Although her ‘professionally-interested’ expression didn’t change, Tucker thought he saw a gleam in Amari’s eyes.

“Which is?”

“Exploration. Pure ‘n’ simple.”

“…And First Officer?” Although he’d anticipated she’d ask him that, he froze. Throat closing, Tucker managed to croak.

“That depends on who they choose for Captain, I guess.” Putting her pen down, Amari said conversationally.

“Let’s say it was Robinson.” Tucker desperately held in a laugh and had to cough before answering as seriously as he could.

“Well, someone level-headed… and tough, someone who could stand up- I mean, erm…” _Oh God, what was a non-defamatory way of saying Robinson needed a babysitter?_

“Someone who could make their voice heard, as it were?” Grateful for the save, he agreed and tried to control his blush at her subtle wink. Face straightening, she asked.

“And for Archer?” There was only one answer, but he still cringed inwardly as he said quietly.

“Myself.”

“You think you’re qualified?” Even though her tone wasn’t incredulous, the voices of Captain Jefferies, Admiral Black, Commander Robinson, all swirled around his head, his whole body bending under the weight of them. But then the moment passed and he was back sitting in Amari’s sunny office and suddenly he was saying:

“Yes.” When she didn’t laugh or mutter under her breath or roll her eyes at him he went on. “I’ve given almost ten years of my life to his project: I’ve worked closely with all the parties involved and I know that engine like the back of my hand. I passed all of the Command modules and in the last year I’ve been taking a more managerial role in the team, organising the build and directing the other members of the team as well as members of the construction crew. I know Jon really well and I think I could support him and help…share the burden of Command. And… I want it. I want to be a pioneer of space travel; to see people and worlds you could only ever dream of here on Earth.” Smiling a little, the Doctor thanked him, they shook hands and he left. Huh, maybe Jon’s pep talks did actually work. Or maybe, a little voice suggested, he was almost ready to believe.

…

May rolled around and the construction of _Enterprise_ was on track, with one year to go. It was time to decide who would fly her. Even though Trip never had any direct contact with Command whilst they were closeted away making allocation choices, he could feel every failure and success he’d contributed to being weighed up. It was like a tickle at the back of his neck, an irrepressible itch constantly reminding him that his future was being decided behind closed doors by people who usually sneered at him from a distance. Too broad, too young and inexperienced, too loose, too loud, too uncultured – they were no doubt saying. Even all of Jon’s stubborn faith in him couldn’t reassure him that he had a good chance, not over Connors in any case. Although every so often Doctor Amari’s twinkling eyes would come back to him. Had she…known something? He didn’t know what to think. So when Admiral Forrest finally called him into his office and said he had been chosen as the Chief Engineer, Trip didn’t actually believe him. He just stood there gawking for a moment before coughing.

“Sorry, sir?” Chuckling, Forrest had leant back in his seat a little.

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised. You’ve been one of the major contributors to the project for almost ten years.” When Tucker just stood there like a lemon, the Admiral frowned a little. “You do want the position?” Recovering, Tucker cleared his throat.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Still not convinced, Forrest ventured.

“If you have any doubts over this…” Deciding that he wouldn’t be jinxing himself by asking, Tucker explained quietly.

“No, no I want it. I just thought that Commander Connors would be the preferred option.” Forrest’s face cleared in understanding.

“Ah. He was considered, but Captain Jefferies insisted that his engineering instincts couldn’t hold a candle to yours.” He gave a small grin. “He even had a little chart – for the number guys on the Committee – listing the two of yours’ contributions to the programme. The innovations and advances you have contributed far outstrip Connors’, or indeed anyone else on the team. And as he pointed out you’ve been doing a good job organising a lot the construction.” Insides inflating rapidly with joy, Tucker nodded. “Now I hope your heart can take my second announcement, Commander…”

Trip wandered out Forrest’s office in a bit of daze. The further away he walked, the stranger he felt; like he was wading through an invisible custard, which was buzzing. He was by turns elated and terrified. It was a huge honour. Command had made a mistake. Jefferies had once again stuck up for him. He was the wrong person for this. This was his dream coming true. He was going to mess up. He’d given so many years of his life for this. The whole programme would be scrapped and it would be his fault. He could do this. He couldn’t do this.

He was so distracted that he almost walked into Jon rounding a corner at speed.

“Trip! Didn’t see you there!” Distracted from his inner turmoil by the impossibly wide grin on his friend’s face, his foggy mind kicked into gear.

“Are a ‘congratulations’ in order, Captain?” Jon bounced on his feet, eyes shining as he laughed.

“We did it, Commander!” For a moment, it looked like he was about to move in for a hug, but then he seemed to catch himself and stuck out his hand. A little breathless, Trip took it and they shook hands a little too vigorously but Trip didn’t care, caught up in the tidal wave of Jon’s sheer joy and optimism. “Well, I have a few meetings but join me for a drink later?” Recovering his hand, Trip saluted sharply.

“Yes, sir Captain sir!”

The First Officer and Chief Engineer also many meetings that day, concerning things from the completion of the building, to plotting the initial course to the crew allocations. Jon would have his own preferences and the final say, but part of his role as First Officer meant that Trip would need to narrow the field down and present the best of the best for his Captain to review. Although not wanting to show bias, he was unable to stop himself lingering over the choices for the Engineering team. By the time he managed to get away and meet Jon at the 602, his brain had given up and his body ached but he was also deliriously happy. This called for the bottles off the top-shelf!

…

The first thing Trip remembered on waking up the next morning was that Jon had broken up with Erika. He blinked, head feeling heavy as he considered his disjointed memory. His tongue was furry and he felt queasy even from lying still and his head throbbed. He’d finished up his last meeting, joined Jon for drinks and then… He knew that he should get some water…maybe some painkillers... Eh, in a minute. The night came back to him in bits and pieces. Another raucous round at the 602, sitting on the floor?, slurred shouting in his ear, someone singing?, stumbling through the streets with a strong arm around him, the clinking of glasses on a coffee table, Jon’s sad voice, wet lips pressing against his, someone taking off his shirt. Suddenly fully awake, Trip jerked up and his stomach roiled.

Wincing and groaning, he made it to the bathroom and heaved, hunched over the toilet. There didn’t seem to be a lot coming up, had he thrown up before? Shivering on the cold tile it took him a long minute to realise that he was almost naked, dressed only in his underwear. Blinking to dispel the lingering fogginess in his head, he focused on cataloguing the rest of his body. His head was full of splinters, his mouth a nuclear reactor, his limbs ached slightly, one of his ankles was a little sore and his ass… He sighed with relief and pulled himself up. He relieved himself, flushed, washed his hands and rinsed his mouth out, splashing his face for good measure. It was only when he was looking in the mirror did he realise that he was in Jon’s apartment. His head snapped to the side, eying the doorway into Jon’s bedroom. The sense-memory of lips on his, calloused hands rubbing up and down his bare back came back to him and his cock twitched even as he felt his stomach squeeze. What the Hell had happened?

Well, he couldn’t stand in the en-suite all day. Taking in a long, shaky breath he walked gingerly out and into the bedroom. It was empty. The bed was unmade and clothes were strewn around. He sniffed, but couldn’t smell any lingering scents of sex. Then he heard things boiling and frying in the kitchen. Snagging his wrinkled trousers and T-shirt from the night before, which thankfully only smelled a little, he slipped into the kitchen, trying to act casual.

 “Morning.” Jon was dressed in a T-shirt and jogging bottoms, with bed head and a night’s worth of stubble shadowing his jaw. He looked up at Trip’s opener and smiled, though the lines around his eyes showed that he was also feeling the indulgence from the night before.

“Morning, eggs?” Wincing at his still upset stomach, Trip managed to rasp.

“Maybe coffee first?” Pouring himself a cup, he slipped into a chair and cleared his throat. “So…Did…?” Jon served himself and joined Trip at the table. “Did we…?” Although a little red in the face, Jon seemed otherwise calm as he said matter-of-factly.

“My memory isn’t the best but I think we may have.” At Trip’s look of alarm, Jon corrected himself hurriedly. “Kissed that is. We stopped around second base though.” Not sure what else to do, Trip took a sip of coffee and thought that through.

“Right.” His brain wasn’t really engaging. “Erm… Do you remember…how…?” Jon waited until Trip put his cup down before explaining, looking a little shifty.

“Ah, well, we were both pretty wasted and I was missing Erika and…” he shrugged, “it seemed like a good idea at the time.” Trip took another sip and his right foot began tapping the floor without him really noticing.

“And we definitely didn’t…?”

“No.” Jon suddenly looked very grave and Trip’s stomach completely dissolved as he added quietly. “You told me that you were in love with me.” Time crashed to a halt and all the hairs on the back on Trip’s arms stood up. He didn’t even recognise his own voice when he said.

“I did?” Jon went back to his eggs and muttered.

“Yeah.” Suddenly, Trip remembered. At least, he could hear himself saying it. He’d sounded sad. He frowned, trying to remember what Jon had said back. Memory failing him, he took another sip and watched Jon eat some mouthfuls. In the end, he managed.

“Huh, sorry.” Jon looked up and said firmly, in that ‘you-should-not-be-so-hard-on-yourself’ tone he used sometimes.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Shifting his feet to rest on the bottom rung of the chair, Trip hunched his shoulders a little to half-hide in his coffee.

“You’d just broken up with Erika, you didn’t need me coming on to you.” His friend just raised an eyebrow, swallowing his latest mouthful before saying.

“It wasn’t like that. That was actually why we stopped.” Trip blinked. Jon coughed and said a little embarrassedly. “You said that… ‘it’…would be a bad idea because you were in love with me.” Trip had another flash of memory, a hand in his hair and lips on his neck as he sighed and whispered mournfully. _Wait_. Opening his eyes, a little flustered at the intensity of the recollection, he blurted.

“How come I was being the sensible one but you’re the one that remembers?” Chuckling, Jon pointed to some empty spirit bottles on the side.

“Because after that you said ‘I am way too sober for this’ and downed half a bottle of tequila. You’re lucky I cut you off, otherwise we’d be looking for another Chief Engineer by now.” Shuddering, mouth flooding with saliva at the thought, Trip swallowed forcefully and breathed through the nausea. His friend saw his reaction and gave him a moment before smiling gently. “I must admit though that it wasn’t a complete surprise.” Well that was news to Trip. He frowned and opened his mouth. But then closed it again. He decided that he didn’t want to know how long Jon had suspected his feelings. What if he’d only noticed recently? Trip didn’t want to reveal how long he’d actually been in love with him for. Instead he asked.

“So who told you?” Jon stood and rinsed his plate in the sink, shrugging.

“What? You don’t believe I figured it out myself?” Trip just raised his eyebrow and risked another sip of coffee. After depositing his plate and cutlery in the dishwasher, Jon turned and saw Trip’s expression. Huffing a laugh, he protested. “I notice things! I’m not oblivious you know.” Glad they were past any awkwardness over the reveal, Trip just hummed sceptically, knowing it would annoy Jon more. Sure enough, he put his hands on his hips in mock-irritation before his expression hardened. Trip froze. After a long moment his face cleared and he sat back down again, sighing.

“It was Erika, alright?” Uncomfortable, Trip tried to lighten the mood.

“That why she tried to set me up with Natalie?” Also making an effort, Jon said.

“Worked, didn’t it?” But then they both had the same thought. Sighing heavily, Trip put his mug down and rubbed his forehead. _Oh God, Natalie._ Every time he thought he’d outgrown his youthful foolishness, he messed up again to prove that he never learned. Cautiously, Jon asked quietly. “Are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m leaving next year…I haven’t even told her about that yet.” The pain in his head increasing, Trip decided to leave that conundrum for later. There was something more important preying on his mind.

“Sure you still don’t’ need a new Chief Engineer?” A warm, calloused hand took his wrist and squeezed.

“Nope, I’m fine with the one I’ve got. We’re still friends. You’re my best friend in fact.” His expression softened, affection plain on his face, and for a moment, Trip thought he was dreaming. “And I want to say this in case you don’t remember me saying it last night: I feel so much more confident and excited and safe, knowing that you’re coming with me on _Enterprise_.”

“Wow.” Trip blinked and tried to speak around the lump in his throat. “No one else I’d rather call my Cap’n.” Jon’s grin widened, so sunny that Trip could almost feel the heat of it on his own face. “So…we’re okay?” Jon released his wrist and said definitively.

“Yes.” Doubts well and truly vanquished, Trip huffed with relief and finished the coffee. Yes, this man was going to make a great Captain. Stomach feeling more settled, Trip tried some eggs and then tried to keep from laughing as Jon asked him to come help him pick a puppy. He knew Jon’s soft spot for four-legged fur balls and predicted that this would mean he still wouldn’t have Jon’s full attention. Well, it would be too pathetic – even for him – to be jealous of a dog. Right?

…

From that day, to Trip’s dismay, he thought he felt Jon pulling away from him. It was subtle at first, and with everyone was working flat out to stay on schedule in _Enterprise’s_ construction, there was hardly time to think. But then Jon made excuses not to visit the Tucker’s at Christmas, the first time he hadn’t attended since his first visit all those years ago and Trip couldn’t deny his gut instinct any longer. He lay in his old bed in his parent’s house on Christmas Eve night, listening to his cousin sneaking into her kid’s rooms to drop off their stockings and pondering over why.

It wasn’t like anything had drastically changed; they were still friendly at work, laughing and chatting in down moments, even taking adorable little Porthos for walks when he’d gotten big enough. But there was definitely a clear division between them, Trip could feel it. The way Jon avoided touching him beyond claps on the shoulder or handshakes if they met again after spending a long time apart. Perhaps Jon hadn’t been entirely honest when he’d said they were fine after Trip’s confession. He’d tried to recall more of that night but hadn’t been able to remember anything beyond flashes and sense-impressions. Thinking about it though, Trip concluded that Jon wouldn’t have had a reason to lie. He may be a better liar than Trip but he didn’t make a habit out of it. Trip considered that maybe it was Jon over-compensating on projecting how fine he was with Trip’s feelings without encouraging him with the ‘just-friends-who-stand-a-little-apart-from-each-other-at-all-times’ vibe.

And then the voice of the Command course lecturer floated into his head.

_It is important to keep a certain distance between you and subordinates. You mustn’t forget that you are there to protect, guide and lead them; not befriend them._

So that was it. Even though they’d always been separated by rank, Jon hadn’t been his direct superior. Well, that should be ‘Captain Archer hadn’t been his direct superior before’. Best friends they may be, but they were also superior and inferior officers and that fact had become unavoidably clear.

Either way, Trip concluded that actually he thought this was for the best. His love for Jon was no longer a heavy secret colouring their every encounter and the new power-dynamic between them made any romantic connection between them impossible – at least in Jon’s mind. And to be fair, Trip had never seriously considered a relationship with Jon. He tried for a moment to imagine it: what they had now just with the intimacy of a romantic relationship and it just didn’t seem possible. They were firmly in the role of colleagues who were friends, had been for so many years, that it was who they were to each other. He accepted that fact and it brought him some peace.

In that vein, he started investing more effort in his relationship with Natalie. Although his timing could not have been poorer. She had not been pleased to learn that he’d accepted a post on a five-year long deep space mission but then she’d never envisioned settling down and starting a family with him. Trip agreed but thought it a bit harsh to actually admit that out loud. Still, falling asleep next to another warm body whenever he got the chance to visit was more comforting than it should have been. On reflection, he wasn’t sure what she was getting out of the relationship she couldn’t find elsewhere, but not wanting to rock the boat, he never asked.

…

As more and more of the ship came together, Trip and the rest of the core team began to feel like their dreams were all becoming realised. At the same time the pressure from on high was being ramped up; they had to succeed in this mission or else set Starfleet back years. The Vulcans were never far away, hovering in small clusters in the control rooms and corridors, looking down their noses. Commander Tucker forced himself to refrain from engaging, only speaking to defend any decisions he or his team had made when they were questioned. Despite his frustration at their condescension, Trip had the other things to worry about. On top of his ridiculous list of responsibilities, the additional ghost of _Daedalus_ loomed over him; the nightmares returned in full force. This time it was Archer and others on the bridge of _Enterprise_ screaming as they were engulfed in flames. It was perhaps a good thing that he hardly had time to sleep anyway. Though stronger than the stress, the pointy-eared judgement and the sickening nightmares was going through the crew appointments and other administrative items with Archer and the Admirals, hearing them take his comments into account, making him realise that ‘First Officer’ wasn’t just a label. It was a role that he was doing and, from the encouraging half-smiles from Forrest indicated, doing well. Finally, Trip let go of his self-doubts. _Enterprise_ herself was proof of what self-belief and drive could achieve and so many people had backed him, it would almost be a disservice to them for him to talk himself out of it.

Then, almost miraculously, the day had arrived. It was way ahead of schedule, but even through all of the mayhem with Klang, Trip felt the fizzing excitement and sheer joy at realising that they’d made it. They’d launched. _Enterprise_ ’ _s_ engines fired just as he’d dreamed and the universe was theirs to explore.

Trip Tucker was an engineer and an explorer. He believed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any feedback, just let me know!  
> :D

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Unhealthy relationship in Chapter 1. Trip is 18 when he has anal sex with a much older man who takes advantage of Trip's insecurities and inexperience. Whilst Trip feels physical and emotional pain during and as a result of the sex, I would not describe it as rape as he does not indicate to the man at any time that he wants to stop. At one point Trip considers asking the man to stop, but decides against it and convinces himself that everything will be fine.  
> The scene is quite unpleasant in general so if you want to skip it, go from the line: "You need to go to the bathroom?" to the next section break: "He felt even worse the next morning."  
> Let me know if you think any tags or warnings are missing, thanks!


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